


Macchan, Macchan!!

by Einzel



Category: Free!, 弱虫ペダル | Yowamushi Pedal
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Haru has high resistance but Arakita doesn't - suffers critical damage, How to Hit on Your Childhood Friend 101, Hurt/Comfort, I just wanted this boy to be happy but I overwhelmed him, I'm sorry Arakita I swear my intentions were good, M/M, Makoto Too Bomb: The Musical, Valentine's Day, basically don't do most of what Arakita's doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-22 15:49:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9614846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Einzel/pseuds/Einzel
Summary: Not all men are created equal, Macchan. I know that now. But I should have realized earlier, all those good things about you that I used to take for granted, or think so little of… and what made you, in due time, so much better than me.Free!/Yowamushi Pedalcrossover where Tachibana Makoto and Arakita Yasutomo grew up in Iwatobi as childhood friends, who played baseball, faced some rough times, left their past ties behind, and finally found something worth fighting for. Have you ever wondered what Arakita might have been like if he had had constant support throughout his life? Well, I did, so I gave him a best friend, the best one I could think of.





	1. January, Second Year of High School.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The howling wind pounced on Makoto’s balcony and snapped its jaws against the door, but its icy claws scratched the glass in vain. Still, sitting on the floor in a t-shirt and jeans, with nothing but a thin pillow beneath him and Makoto’s back against his for warmth, Yasutomo shuddered and snapped his 3DS shut with a loud “Tch.” He dropped the console in his lap, thoroughly glad to take a break from his game, and since Makoto showed no signs of paying attention, Yasutomo snatched up the nearest can of Bepsi to pour himself a drink. He drew a long hiss from the can, gave his glass full of ice a good, thorough shake, then sloshed Bepsi over it repeatedly, but Makoto did not so much as stir at all his noise, too engrossed in his own game to care about anything else, including his best friend of seventeen years getting severely neglected. For Pokémon, no less! Tiny pixels on a screen!! Yasutomo clicked his tongue in disdain.

“Macchan. Oi, Macchan…”

Behind him, Makoto hummed, but otherwise remained as he had been for the last two hours now. Yasutomo gritted his teeth. Sure, he had been the one to suggest they spend the last day of winter break playing video games together, and even had his sisters invite the twins over to Yasutomo’s house so the two older brothers could hang out in peace at Makoto’s, but he didn’t actually think they’d be playing Pokémon for so long! _It was just a ruse, Macchan! A ruse to be alone for a while! Get a clue already, you game-obsessed moron!!_

He pursed his lips, leaned forward, then shoved his back against Makoto’s for a surprise attack, but that wall of firm muscle wouldn’t budge. All he could hear from the other side was the same repetitive background music, and the soft squeaks of Makoto’s circle pad. Yasutomo huffed.

“Macchan..” he slammed against Makoto again. “Macchan..!” His elbow joined the fight for a five percent annoyance bonus. “Macchan! _Macchan! Macchan!!_ ”

“Yes, Tomo?” came Makoto’s voice, soft and mellow as always, with a mild hint of curiosity.

“You get too absorbed in your game, Macchan! Answer me when I talk to you, dammit,” groused Yasutomo, shooting his own screen a glare for doing such a pitiful job in comparison.

“Were you even talking?” replied Makoto without missing a beat, his words followed by a slight change of background music. Yasutomo nudged him with his elbow in retaliation.

“I _was!_ You should have paid attention, Macchan!”

“Weren’t you just cursing at your game?”

Yasutomo choked. With a mash of the buttons, he quit his game, turned off the console, and snapped it closed with a thunderous click. How the screen hadn’t cracked yet from his Makoto-related tantrums, he couldn’t even fathom.

“Shut up! I wasn’t even playing anymore!” he grumbled as he tossed his 3DS on the coffee table. “I was telling you that your room’s like an ice cavern! You didn’t turn on the heating properly, dumbass! I’m gonna catch hypothermia in here!”

Makoto snorted.

“Develop…” he mumbled, sounding suspiciously like he was struggling to contain laughter. “You _develop_ hypothermia and _catch_ a cold…”

“ _Tch._ You’ve got a smart mouth on you, Macchan,” muttered Yasutomo with a hard squint thrown behind his back. “Are you getting smart with me? I’ll conk you.”

“I know you won’t, Tomo...” replied Makoto, calm as can be.

“Oh yeah?!” snapped Yasutomo, only to feel Makoto’s back shift as he turned around just enough to flash his trademark smile and add,

“...because deep down, you’re a really nice guy.”

Yasutomo flushed crimson. _How can he sound so sincere when it’s all bullshit… Tch!_

“Shuddup,” he turned his head with a frown. Makoto chuckled.

“But…” he continued, earning a curious glance from Yasutomo, “if you feel cold, get over here.”

“ _Haaah?!_ ”

“Get over here. I’ll keep you warm.”

Yasutomo gave a strangled sound and whipped his head away again. Cold or not, his cheeks could have fried an egg at this point, but after a long moment, he huffed and grabbed his console from the coffee table. He pointedly ignored Makoto while he turned it on and restarted his game, then lurched to his feet and edged around his best friend, bane of his life, careful to keep his eyes on his screen the whole time as he kneeled down and swung a leg over Makoto’s lap.

“ _Fine!_  Have it  _your_  way, Macchan,” he groused as he plopped into his friend’s lap. “Sheesh.. I bet you turned the heat down just so you could mess with me,” he grumbled as he tucked his arms beneath Makoto’s on either side, bringing his 3DS behind his friend’s back. “This is so embarrassing.. god, you’re such a homo,” he hissed as he wiggled about in Makoto’s lap until he found his usual spot, then dropped his jaw on his friend’s shoulder and curled his legs around the other’s hips. “I’m glad no one can see me right now, getting exploited like this! You’re a real selfish brat, Macchan, for making me do this all the time..!”

He expected Makoto to laugh and tease him for being such a hypocrite. Any moment now… but instead, uneasy silence followed as Makoto’s shoulders stiffened beneath his chin.

“You started this, Tomo, but if you really hate it so much, go turn the heat up,” said Makoto at last, his tone dry as if he had grown tired of bickering. He even lowered his 3DS so his arms would fall out of his friend’s way. “Go on, I won’t stop you.”

Yasutomo swallowed. Makoto lifted his free hand just enough to nudge him in the thigh.

“Come on, Tomo. Off you go.”

“W-Well, I don’t need to anymore,” mumbled Yasutomo as he wrapped his legs a little tighter around Makoto’s hips and pressed his elbows against his friend’s sides to prop up the console behind his back. The 3DS trembled in his hands. “You’re like a furnace up close, so I’ll be fine.”

He held his breath until Makoto sighed and lifted up his own console again. The same background music resumed. Yasutomo lowered his eyes.

“What are you doing, Macchan? Are you still hatching eggs..?”

“Yeah,” replied Makoto, quieter this time. “I’m on my sixth batch.”

“Weirdo,” quipped Yasutomo, though his voice stayed low and small. “You should give it a rest already. Do something else, Macchan..! I could never sit around for hours hatching eggs like that.”

“I know,” said Makoto with growing fondness, “but the thing is, that competitive shiny Tyrunt you wanted isn’t gonna hatch itself.”  Yasutomo’s breath hitched. “Or don’t you want one anymore?”

“Macchan…” he whispered, completely caught off guard. Makoto hummed, but Yasutomo could almost hear him smile, and a moment later, Makoto’s lower arms pressed against him on either side, locking him gently but firmly into place.

“So bear with me a little longer, alright?”

“Fine… whatever,” mumbled Yasutomo, then said no more as he slumped against his best friend in defeat. Not wanting to just sit in silence, he made one last valiant effort to resume his game, but the more he stared at the flickering screen and thought of all those little things he could do, the less inclined he felt to bother with any of it. Yasutomo could have sworn his 3DS was growing heavier and heavier in defiance, until he found himself lowering it onto the floor, though he refused to let go of it just yet.

 _How do you have so much patience, Macchan…_  he thought with a guilty frown.  _I do want a shiny Tyrunt, it would look cool on my team, but who cares about that when you could be paying attention to me?! I’m right here! I’m as 3D as you can get! So play with **me,**  dumbass!_

He tensed. A moment later, he shut down and closed his console as quietly as he could, then curled a hand over a fold of Makoto’s shirt, hoping the other wouldn’t notice.

_Sheesh. I’m pathetic, aren’t I, Macchan… Who would have thought I’d become so clingy and lovesick, huh? Are you sick and tired of me yet? Are you..?_

_I hope you’re not sick of me yet, Macchan… it’s all your fault, you know…_

_I’ve been a mess, ever since you saved me._

* * *

_It all started with baseball, years and years ago. I’d loved baseball since I was little, to the point where I made you pick it up so we could play all the time, Macchan. And you did it, despite the rocky start. I still can’t believe I almost broke your nose that first time. Your reflexes were usually okay, so I figured you would do fine with a bat, but when I first pitched for you, you seemed frozen, Macchan. Like you were admiring my pitching… And I swung the ball right in your face. I just wanted to impress you, I swear._

_You cried so much, Macchan. You almost got stitches, too, and the only reason my dad didn’t beat the crap out of me for hurting you was that you swore it was an accident, and the idea that I had a powerful pitch made him proud of me. I was so grateful to you, Macchan. I’d take a beating for you any day, but I didn’t want one from my old man. Nobody does._

_After you healed up, you even picked up the bat again, but I could tell that first time got to you, Macchan. You were scared it might happen again, and became a lousy batter, the kind that swings all over the place. Still, whenever you managed to hit the ball, it was always huge. Home run huge. I was honestly impressed, Macchan. Just for that, I kinda hoped you’d become a batter. It would have been really cool, watching you score a home run in game, but with your lousy percentage, every coach we ever had said you were useless as a batter, and it was all because of me…_

_You did have something else up your sleeve though, Macchan, something even better than those rare home runs of yours. After we faced off against some neighborhood kids a few times, I realized you had a good eye for strategy. You had seen me pitch countless times, and always liked to observe people, and all that combined made you a pretty good catcher. It was honestly perfect for you, Macchan. You didn’t get to show off, but instead you got to wear protective gear, and it made you feel at ease when we played. You even told me once that maybe, if I hadn’t hit you that first time, you would have never considered becoming a catcher, and you know what? It helped me let go of my guilt for good. I slept like a baby that night. That was really great of you, Macchan…_

_We went on to play in middle school, and because pitchers got to show off, everyone had high expectations for me. You? Not so much. Even though both of us took things seriously, shaved our heads to match our teammates, and never missed practice, nobody recognized your talent aside from the guys who pitched for you, Macchan. Maybe it was because you weren’t flashy, and you always downplayed your role to anyone who asked. I really hated that, but at the same time, I didn’t know what to do about it. I was called a prodigy from the get go, and you… only a few of us had the right idea about you._

_You should have had more faith in yourself, Macchan. No matter what you said, and no matter what anyone said about you, you could read your pitchers and the enemy batters like a book. You were scary efficient, sometimes. I remember games where as long as we put out strong pitchers, you didn’t let our opponents score a single hit. My first year of middle school, with you as the catcher, I won the prefecture’s New Pitcher Award._

_It was the best moment of my baseball career. I got a huge trophy, the team carried me around, and the way you looked at me, I felt like a hero, Macchan..! And I thought, if my best friend looks at me like I’m the greatest guy alive, that’s a sweet bonus to go with my trophy. I loved that trophy so much, I had it on my nightstand for two years, and shined it every day! Back then, it was everything to me._

_I thought for sure I’d make my prefectural tournament debut in grand style. I was so excited for it, I practiced day and night, even when everyone else started saying I should rest up. You were worried, too, Macchan, but more than anything, it made me want to keep my extra training a secret from you. I felt like I was hiding a top secret weapon, and I was gonna bust it out at the tournament and impress the hell out of you!_

_I was stupid, Macchan. There were warning signs, but I ignored them… and the summer of our second year, I broke my elbow right before the prefectural tournament, in a very important game._

_That injury… that’s where it all started. I will never forget that look on your face, Macchan… the look that said it was all over for me._


	2. July, Second Year of Middle School.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “He’s awake..!” said a voice that sounded like Makoto’s. Yasutomo opened his eyes.

The stench of disinfectant assailed his nostrils. He couldn’t feel his elbow. The moment he tried to move his arm, he felt it snag against something stiff, and just as he realized it was in a cast, the doctor standing by his mother’s side came forward and pressed a hand against his chest to push him back onto his sheets.

“No need to move just yet, young man,” he said, staring him right in the eye until Yasutomo relented. The guy’s hand felt unbearably cold even through his hospital gown.

“How’s my arm?” asked Yasutomo at once. “When will it heal?”

The words poured out like sand. He coughed.

“You broke your elbow, so it will take at least two months to heal,” explained the doctor as he began his check-up. “I hear you play baseball, young man.”

“I have an important game coming up,” croaked Yasutomo. The doctor hummed.

“I’m sure you do, but you won’t be able to play with a broken elbow. Don’t worry, the cast will come off in about two months, but it will take a while before you can start playing again. With plenty of rest and physical therapy, I’m sure you’ll be fine… but you sound terrible. You must be thirsty,” said the doctor, his gaze drifting right of Yasutomo. “Young man, would you get your friend a drink?”

Yasutomo blinked and followed the guy’s eyes, to find Makoto still in his baseball uniform, perched on a chair by Yasutomo’s bed. His knees pressed together and his hands were gripping the edges of his seat, but the smile on his face looked genuine.

 _Macchan…_ sighed Yasutomo, all too relieved to see someone friendly in the room. _So you came with me after all, Macchan… even though we were both playing. You should have stayed and won for me, dummy…_

“Okay,” said Makoto as he rose from his chair. “I’ll be right back!”

Before Yasutomo could say anything, Makoto turned back from the door and added,

“Bepsi, I know..!”

Yasutomo huffed, but he broke into a smirk all the same. _You know me so well, Macchan…_

The idea of that ice cold Bepsi put him in a better mood for a while. It even made the examination and the doctor’s small talk to his mother bearable… at least until Yasutomo realized that both were completely ignoring him in typical adult fashion. Between the doctor’s reassurances and his mother’s grateful gushing, Yasutomo simply found no room to get a word in despite being the obvious subject of their talk. _Why are you two acting like I’m not even here?_ he scowled at them. _I’m right in front of you! I just asked this human butcher a question, dammit!_

“Yes, he’s very good! He even won a trophy last year!”

_I won the prefecture’s New Pitcher Award! I could talk of nothing else for a month! Get it right!!_

“Oh, he’ll play fine, I’m sure. We can’t do miracles, but his injury won’t affect him much.”

Yasutomo’s heart skipped a beat. Whatever he wanted to say next froze in his throat.

_Wh-Wha…?_

_Can’t do miracles..? Won’t affect me **much?**_

_What the… **What the hell does that mean?**_

Yasutomo opened his mouth, but by the time he could demand a real explanation, the doctor turned his back on him, and left the room to check on another patient down the hall. Only his mother remained, to tell him how she would come back tomorrow morning with Yasutomo’s pajamas, and that large comic book anthology he liked to read so much.

Not wanting to be stuck in the hospital without entertainment, Yasutomo told her it was fine. Everything was fine, _fine, just go away already so I can talk to Macchan..!_

Makoto didn’t come back so soon, though. It was well after his mother had left that Makoto snuck back to the room, his shoulders hunched and his hands clasped over a dented can of Bepsi.

“Macchan..!” sighed Yasutomo never taking his eyes off Makoto as his friend walked around the bed and sank back into his chair. “You took your sweet time…” he chided while Makoto opened the can and handed it to him.

Yasutomo took a sip and made a face. He stuck out his tongue in disgust.

“What the—! This is _lukewarm,_ Macchan..!” he whined as he held the can away from himself, sloshing it a bit for dramatic effect. “Where you got this from, the stove? Was the machine next to a furnace, Macchan, or did you use your solar hands to turn it into caramel?”

He expected Makoto to bicker with him, or laugh at his exaggerations, but Makoto did not so much as react. Instead, he whispered,

“I’m sorry…” as if he had done something horrible.

“Macchan.. I was kidding,” mumbled Yasutomo. “Listen, Macchan…” he began, but the way Makoto’s jaws clenched and his eyes widened wiped all excuses from Yasutomo’s mind. “What’s wrong..? You looked fine when you left…”

He furrowed his brow and put his Bepsi down on the nightstand. “Who hurt you, Macchan? Where are they? Who do I beat up?!” He lifted his arm slightly off the bed. “Don’t you worry, Macchan, I’m armor-plated! I bet this thing could break a guy’s nose if I swung it hard enough—”

“Tomo…” pleaded Makoto. One look at his face, and the way he lowered his head, and Yasutomo’s bare arm broke out in goosebumps. “I was on my way back when I ran into your doctor, so I stopped him to ask about your arm. I told him you had overworked yourself because you were our record-holding ace pitcher, and asked if you’d be able to pitch like you always have once you healed. And he told me… that the surgery went well, and you will be able to use your elbow just fine, but it will never be like it was before.”

Yasutomo’s breath hitched. Makoto closed his eyes.

“He said there was a type of surgery that works on adults, one that can even make them pitch better than before, but it doesn’t work on minors, because our injuries are different. He said you damaged something called your growth plate, and they can’t fix that.”

A cold knot formed in the pit of Yasutomo’s stomach. Makoto’s frown twisted.

“He also said… that you pinched a nerve in your elbow. It’s called the ulnar nerve, I think. He said it wouldn’t really bother you because you won’t feel any pain, but your fingers will curl up when your hand is relaxed. They will stay like that, forever.”

Yasutomo tore his eyes away from Makoto to look at his right hand. His pinkie and ring fingers appeared tucked to his palm. He stretched them out and wiggled his fingers, however clumsily, then allowed his hand to go limp. The same two fingers slowly curled inward, like a cat retracting its claws.

“Tomo…” breathed Makoto, his voice too thin. “I’m so sorry, Tomo… I should have noticed you had overworked yourself. I thought I was just imagining things. I know I’m a worrywart, so I tend to fuss when I shouldn’t, and I can be a busybody, so I tried to mind my own business, but if I had just _said_ something, _maybe… you would still be out there..!_ ”

Yasutomo stared at him stunned. Makoto swallowed hard and hung his head, eyes gleaming in the dark.

“ _It’s my fault…_ ”

Silence fell as Makoto gripped his knees to stop his hands from shaking. Yasutomo could feel his own hands tremble too, but he gritted his teeth in desperation. _Pull yourself together, Arakita Yasutomo! You can worry about all this later! Just say something to him, anything..!_

“ _Stop blubbering, dumbass!_ ”

The words came out of nowhere, and rang sharper than he intended, but at least he managed to catch Makoto off guard. His friend whipped up his head, eyes wide and wet, but no actual tears to speak of. Yasutomo shook his head.

“It’s not your fault, Macchan,” he said softly. “You weren’t the one who overworked me, and you weren’t the one who broke my elbow. You’ve done nothing wrong, so stop crying..!”

Makoto seemed unconvinced. Yasutomo sighed.

“And besides.. nothing’s over yet, Macchan!”

Makoto blinked. Yasutomo squinted at him.

“So the doctor thinks my elbow will never be the same?” he began his attack, with as much bravado as he could muster. “And what does a doctor know about _baseball_ , Macchan?! That’s right, _nothing!_ He doesn’t play! He doesn’t go to practice! He cuts and guts and stitches people up and that’s it! Doctors don’t know jack shit about playing sports, Macchan! What you do after surgery is none of their concern!”

Having captured Makoto’s attention, Yasutomo paused to take a deep breath.

“Reality isn’t set in stone, Macchan,” he carried on, more quietly this time. “Reality can be turned on its head. I should know. I’ve _seen_ it turn around before.”

Makoto stared at him in a mixture of confusion and awe. The thought pulled Yasutomo’s lips into a wry smirk.

“So my elbow won’t be the same? My growth plate or whatever took a hit? _Big deal!_ Maybe it’ll heal up even better! You never know until it’s over, right? And these,” he pointed to his pinkie and ring fingers, “who cares if my fingers look like this, huh?! I can still move them, can’t I? You gotta make the most of what you got, Macchan. Maybe these fingers will be my trademark lucky claws..!”

He curled up the rest of his fingers to match, then jerked his hand open and closed over the sheets.

“See? Look at how powerful that looks, Macchan! It says I’m gonna devour my opponents! Feed me your strongest batters, I’m **_starving!_** ”

His final flourish, a huge, toothy grin to go with his words, finally brought some color back into Makoto’s cheeks. He ended up laughing despite himself, and having managed to make him so, Yasutomo no longer had to force his own grin.

“Just you wait, Macchan,” he said with softened looks. “It’ll suck, having to wait so long to start practicing again, but I’ll catch up. So you just keep playing, and wait for me!”

“I will!” cried Makoto, his hands clenched into fists. “I’ll work hard!”

“Attaboy,” sighed Yasutomo as he nestled back onto his sheets, positively exhausted from having to put on a show. “Hey, Macchan…”

Makoto hummed, alert and eager as ever. Yasutomo suppressed a yawn.

“Can you get me another Bepsi. A cold one.”

Makoto sank a hand into his pocket. A moment later, Yasutomo could hear a faint jingle of loose change. His friend grinned in relief.

“I’ll be right back!”

* * *

_And just like that, our talk of damaged growth plates and pinched nerves was over for a while, Macchan. The moment you came back with that second Bepsi, even though I really wanted you to stay, I sent you home to your family. I had a lot to think about, and the idea that I might have to keep faking courage made me dead tired._

_The rest of that evening is still kind of a blur. All I remember is savoring that ice cold Bepsi as the pain killers slowly wore off and my elbow gradually set itself on fire. I didn’t even care. Nothing beats an ice cold Bepsi, Macchan, except maybe having an elbow that isn’t broken beyond repair. **Ha!**_

_Oh, man… I must have cracked at least a thousand stupid elbow jokes so I could laugh at myself, Macchan… they helped me pretend my life wasn’t over yet._

_You came back the next morning after school, and sat a few hours with me every day until I was discharged. You even brought me fruit one time. That was really great of you, Macchan._

_I got a new cast before I left the hospital, and I wore it for ten weeks, including summer vacation. It was so boring, not being able to do anything fun, but you still invited me to go camping with your family, and even though I couldn’t do the things we usually did, getting to spend time with you made me feel less lonely, Macchan. It helped me stay civil to everyone else, too. You were obviously trying to make me feel better, and knowing you made all that effort for my sake made me smile more than I would have otherwise._

_I continued to rely on you once we were back in school, because I couldn’t write with my left hand at all. I still attended practice despite having been excused for the rest of the season, but all I really did was sit around and watch you play, or coach our first years because their pitching form was still terrible. I had never done that sort of thing before, but I think I managed well, Macchan. That was probably the nicest part of recovery. I couldn’t train properly, but the team still made me feel like I was important. It felt like they were waiting eagerly for my return, you know?_

_I started physical therapy in October, just as the playoffs began. I thought it would never end, Macchan. I hadn’t been able to use my arm for ten weeks, and when it was finally free, it felt like a twig. My grip was still fine, or so I thought, but I had to build my muscles back from scratch. And you know what? Nobody talked to me about the specifics of my damaged growth plate or whatever, but the doctor was right, Macchan. My therapist said my arm moved “just as expected,” but I could tell something was off. It felt rusty, and snagged just a little bit, and the idea that it did scared the shit out of me._

_I still wonder why nobody cared to talk to me about my elbow except for you, and the doctor. While you were away, he checked on me once, so I told him what you said, and you know what he told me? He just said he was sorry, but there was nothing else they could do for me, so they didn’t want to make a big deal of something that couldn’t be fixed. Adults are messed up, Macchan. They don’t listen. Until you explained my record to him, he probably thought I was just a regular kid who enjoyed playing outside, and broke my arm because I wasn’t actually as good as my mom made me out to be. Well, I suppose this injury would have made little difference to a kid like that. Suppose you could only use your elbow at sixty percent after an injury, if you were already a sixty-five percent guy to begin with, there’d be hardly any difference, right? Nobody would really notice because you suck anyway! But plummeting to sixty percent from ninety or a hundred, even, and the difference is between heaven and hell._

_Once physical therapy was over, I was desperate to recover completely. I remembered my promise to you, Macchan, and I thought, I had better make good on my word and get even better than I was, so we could both stop worrying about me. I trained really hard, as hard as I could, and all the while, I kept running my stupid mouth to sound confident. I put on my bravest face, and said ridiculous stuff like,_

_“Look at these guns! I must be stronger now!”_

_“Today smells like my lucky day!”_

_“My fingers are tingling. I bet I’m gonna be in great form today!”_

_What a load of bullshit that was! I’m embarrassed that those words had ever left my stupid mouth!! But whenever I caught you looking at me all anxious, I just had to say **something** , Macchan. I wanted to wipe that look off your face, and convince myself that I still stood a chance at recovery. Fake it till you make it, you know?_

_I tried so hard, Macchan… I really did. But as time passed and my form stopped improving, I got more and more anxious, and frustrated, and angry. I could just barely contain myself, Macchan. Each time I finished practice without making any progress, I wanted to scream, and break things, and throw my gloves in the trash for good. If it hadn’t been for you constantly supporting me, and being the one person I never wanted to hurt ever again, I would have probably lost it a lot sooner._

_Because let me tell you, Macchan, I wasn’t deaf. I could hear all the crap our teammates said behind my back. That’s, that’s a funny thing about sports, Macchan. While you’re in top form, and stronger than the rest, everyone around you will act like you’re best buddies. They will admire you, cheer for you, believe in you, and it feels great, it really does. But show any weakness, get even a little worse for wear, and the guys you once thought were your friends, will suddenly turn into vultures. And it’s not just their attitude, Macchan. Their scent changes too, and goes from bearable to god awful. After a while, the entire court stank like a rat-infested sewer, and it was hard to breathe, let alone practice pitching._

_You don’t have a keen sense of smell like I do, Macchan. You probably didn’t notice any of this, but I did. Even my own scent got worse after a while. In fact, the only guy whose scent didn’t change at all? It was you, Macchan…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank the author of [this excellent post](http://strawberryriver.tumblr.com/post/115917570347/contributing-to-the-pedals-because-i-know-a-lot) on baseball injuries and what actually happened to Arakita in middle school. I loved this headcanon so much, I adopted it as my own because it honestly makes perfect sense for him, and ran away with it here. I don't know if you will ever see this, because I'm too anxious and shy to talk to strangers about my stuff, but your post helped and inspired me. Thank you..!


	3. July, Third Year of Middle School.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “His pitching still lacks force.”

“I feel bad for him, but he probably can’t throw like he used to.”

Instead of reaching for the next ball like he should have, Yasutomo turned his head to shoot a glare at the two onlookers, who flinched, exchanged nervous glances, then took off in a great hurry. Yasutomo clicked his tongue, his brow twitching under the cap. _If you have time to feel sorry for me, go and practice more, you morons…_

He gave his cap’s visor a sharp tug downwards, but just as he was about to turn back to his chosen caddy to resume practice, he saw a shadow spill to the ground by his feet, followed by a familiar voice.

“Could you get out of the way? You don’t belong here anymore.”

Yasutomo lifted his eyes to see the other pitcher, Kubo, backed up by two others smirking behind him. Cowards always did come at him in numbers…

“How could you break your elbow before the tournament?” jeered Kubo, his thumb pressed against his chest as he added, “ _I_ ’ve been careful in preparing for the tournament. I’m not like you.”

Yasutomo set his jaw. Kubo flashed him a smirk.

“You’re finished.”

_Finished..? I’ll show **you** finished, asshole!_

“ _Don’t be ridiculous!_ ” roared Yasutomo as he seized Kubo’s shirt to give him a shake. His threat to strangle Kubo on the spot could not wipe that shit-eating grin off the guy’s face, but the other two at least looked shaken. Yasutomo had expected them to intervene, but they seemed to hesitate. Not that he cared.

“Who are you calling finished, _huh?!_ ” he growled in Kubo’s face, noticing too late that a large hand had slipped between them to clamp onto his wrist. Yasutomo gave his arm a fierce tug before he realized it was Makoto, who gave his wrist a squeeze as he pushed his friend a few steps backwards, away from Kubo. Yasutomo tapped his hand. On the second tap, Makoto released him, but kept his arm hovering in front of his friend like a protective barrier.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than pick fights with your own teammate?” he griped at the instigators, with a glance stolen at Yasutomo, who colored in embarrassment. _Stop butting in, Macchan..!_ he gritted his teeth. _Don’t **you** have anything better to do? You’re making me look so bad!_

“Sorry, sorry, Tachibana,” Kubo waved his hands in surrender, but that foul grin on his face stretched wider. Yasutomo knew that look… it was the trademark of scum who knew all too well that Tachibana Makoto would never raise a finger against them, no matter how provoked or hurt. “I wasn’t picking a fight, though. I was just stating facts. There’s no use denying it. Arakita can’t pitch like he used to anymore. In fact, I’d say he’s no better with a ball now than you are with a bat!”

His cronies laughed. Makoto tensed his shoulders.

“But don’t worry, Arakita!” continued Kubo, careening his neck to shoot Yasutomo a condescending look from over Makoto’s shoulder. “If you ask Coach nicely, he might still take you to the tournament so you can watch me from the dugout. Good luck trying to get out of there, though..!”

“ _You bastard!_ ” howled Yasutomo, but the moment he launched forward to punch Kubo in the face, he slammed right into Makoto as he spun around and wedged himself between him and Kubo. Yasutomo planted his foot and gave him a hard shove, to no avail, and just as he realized he could have broken free to Makoto’s left, Makoto finally found his grip on his friend and locked Yasutomo into a bear hug. He had taken several steps by the time Yasutomo realized his own feet were no longer touching the ground.

“Macchan! Let go of me! I’m gonna kill you! _Macchan! **Macchan!!**_ ” he screamed as Makoto picked up speed and carried him off, Kubo’s laughter still ringing in his ears.

Blood rumbled in Yasutomo’s ears. Unable to reach his true target, his legs kicked in defiance and his fists knocked against Makoto’s sides, but for all he squirmed, he could not force Makoto to drop him until they had left the court, and Makoto still managed to drag him the rest of the way to the back of the baseball club house. Only there, far away from everyone, did Makoto let him go… and as soon as he had, all the pent-up rage Yasutomo had been hoping to unleash on Kubo finally found a target.

“ _What the fuck is wrong with you, Macchan!!_ ” screamed Yasutomo as he shoved Makoto backwards, till he slammed into the wall of the baseball club house. In an instant, Yasutomo’s hands sank into the fabric of his uniform shirt like claws and wrenched the fabric upwards, till his fists hovered by Makoto’s throat. “Why did you have to butt in, huh?! Didn’t you hear what he said, Macchan?! He was talking shit about you, too! Don’t you have any backbone in you, huh?!”

He could feel Makoto’s chest rise and fall beneath the edge of his palm. Makoto stared back at him wide-eyed, teeth bared in terror, but soon caught his breath and lowered his head.

“I just.. didn’t want you to get in trouble,” he mumbled, his voice shaky. “Things are already bad enough… I didn’t want you to get kicked off the team, for something like this…”

“ _Kicked off?!_ ” Yasutomo threw the words back in his face. “Who cares if they kick me off, Macchan?! You heard them! I’m a loser, a _failure!_ I don’t have a future in baseball anymore, so you might as well have let me have this one thing! Just this once, you could have stayed out of my way! I’m sick and tired of you holding me back, so _stop sticking your nose into everybody’s business!!_ ”

“Tomo…” whispered Makoto. Yasutomo’s hands trembled over his shirt. “Enough… let’s just quit quietly. With dignity… _Please…_ ”

“Dignity..? Dignity?!” echoed Yasutomo, louder and louder. “What dignity do I have left, Macchan?! Open your eyes, idiot! I’m the laughing stock of this entire team!”

Makoto shook his head, but the desperation in his eyes fooled no one.

“Even _you_ are embarrassed by me, Macchan!” cried Yasutomo, no longer caring what came out of his mouth so long as it lessened the pressure that threatened to rupture his chest from within. “You try to act like a good boy who’s just doing his best to protect me, but you’re secretly ashamed of your old pal Tomo, huh?!”

“No..!” pleaded Makoto, only for Yasutomo to smack his fists against his collarbone.

“I’m not stupid, Macchan!” he said with a wild glint in his eyes. “I get it now..! You just want me gone from the team too, don’t you?! You think I’m a loser like everyone else does, but you can’t bring yourself to say it, so you just try and keep me out of everyone’s way! Have your way then, _like you always do in everything!!_ ”

He shoved Makoto against the wall one more time, then seemed to hesitate. It was only for a few seconds, but Makoto could have sworn Yasutomo sneered in disappointment as he released Makoto’s shirt and took off, leaving him behind.

* * *

_I never told you this, but I still remember how it felt to slam you against the wall, Macchan. I could hear your breath hitch as I knocked the air out of you, and feel your pulse, but even though I was downright hurting you, you didn’t lift a finger, not even to defend yourself. You should have used self-defense, Macchan. I was kinda hoping you would, after all the moves I had taught you. I would have deserved any of them, but you were a good boy to the last, Macchan. You only stared at me, regret in your eyes, as I let you go, and then took off like a coward._

_I was full of regret too. But what choice did I have? I ran…_

_I didn’t go home right away though, Macchan. After wandering about aimlessly for about an hour, I returned to the club house, but you were no longer there. And everyone else? They kept practicing like nothing happened. It’s like nobody ever cared about any of this. And you know what? In turn, I stopped caring about them, too! I kicked in the door, pulled off my gloves and my shoes, and I threw them right in the club room trash! I was sick of all these vultures, eating me alive!! They can eat my dirt!! **I’M OUT OF HERE!!**_

_And just like that, my baseball career ended for good. That day, I walked home feeling really empty, Macchan. Like someone had stabbed me in the chest, except it didn’t hurt at all. Instead, everything just poured out of me, and I became hollow, because I had left most of my life, and what I thought was my future, in that club room trash can._

_That night, I thought of calling you, to check if you were okay, but I was scared. I said a lot of shitty things to you, Macchan. Things that weren’t true. Things you didn’t deserve. I wish you had just let me start a fight with the right guy. Haven’t I told you to leave all the fighting to me, Macchan..? Maybe that was wrong of me. If I had made a point of using force where you had to, you might have smacked some sense into me, huh..? Ha ha..._

_The next day, I was honestly nervous to leave my house because of you, but in the end, nothing happened. I walked alone the entire way, and I didn’t see you at school, either. You must have gone earlier than we usually did, and just for once, I thought, maybe it’s a good thing we didn’t go to the same class that year. Hah!_

_By the time lunch break rolled around, I lost my appetite, Macchan. I imagined you looking hurt and thought, this is the worst. How am I supposed to eat my sandwich when you might be looking like that right now. But I was a coward, so I stayed in my classroom and ate anyway. How pathetic is that, Macchan… I could have at least tried going to the roof…_

_The second day, there was still no sign of you anywhere. I even went to your classroom, but I never actually saw you, just your stuff on the desk. That was a relief, knowing you were there somewhere, but it felt kind of lonely, Macchan. I went over again at lunch break, but I couldn’t find you then, either. It was surreal. We’ve been in different classes before, but we always had lunch together. It was our thing. Our special time. Were you really avoiding me, Macchan..?_

_By the third day, I got nervous, not seeing you anywhere. I worried so much, I actually walked by the baseball court after school. I thought, even if you weren’t gonna talk to me, I would at least get to see you at practice, Macchan. I just wanted to know you were doing okay… except I didn’t see you anywhere. The entire team was outside, running laps and practicing their battery, and you were the only one missing. You, who had never once missed practice, Macchan!_

_I had a terrible feeling, so I waited till practice was over, to ask our captain about you… and what he told me blew me away, in more ways than one._

_“You didn’t know, Arakita? Tachibana quit three days ago. He asked to see me after practice, and said he would hand in his resignation form the next day, which he did. …Oh, you’re still a club member, by the way. I was not impressed with that altercation you had during practice, but Tachibana said Kubo was the instigator and disrupted your pitching practice, so he asked me to keep you on record until every third year has retired. …It’s not often that our ace catcher is on his knees asking for a favor, so even though he gave me his resignation form, I tore it up after he left. You will both officially retire in November, and receive a certificate and memento like the rest of us. Consider it a gift from me, for all the years we played together.”_

_I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, Macchan. I mean, I was done for. If they had kicked me out a few months from retirement, it would have stung, sure, but I was prepared for that! I wouldn’t have cared, I quit! But you just had to butt in one more time, didn’t you? What were you thinking, Macchan, begging Terajima on your knees to keep my records spotless, and then throwing your own career in the trash..?!_

_I excused myself, then ran all the way to your house, where your mom told me you went on a walk, to visit the Misagozaki shrine…_

* * *

By the time Yasutomo had climbed the final steps, he was clutching his chest. His heart pounded furiously beneath the gakuran as he stumbled past the wooden racks towards the back, where he finally spotted Makoto on the bottom steps, just under the archway. His friend didn’t look up, but Yasutomo could tell Makoto noticed him. His fists clenched.

“There you are, Macchan…” he breathed as he closed the distance with heavy steps. “I’ve been looking for you…”

He reached out and grasped the loose collar of Makoto’s gakuran. He gave it a tug. Makoto did not so much as stir.

“Terajima told me you quit, Macchan… what the hell is up with that, huh..?!”

Makoto continued to stare into space. Yasutomo’s hand tightened around his collar, but his next tug was even softer than the first.

“Answer me, Macchan..!” he hissed, leaning closer to lend his breaking voice more volume. “Even if I can’t pitch worth shit anymore, you are still our ace catcher! Terajima himself called you that! You could still play at prefecturals! You might actually make it somewhere! Why would you throw that away?! _Do you know what I would give to have a baseball career?!”_

Makoto tensed and turned his head just enough to look Yasutomo in the eye. His expression remained the same, but the storm in those big green eyes gave Yasutomo the shivers.

“Would you give your best friend,” said Makoto, so softly it was almost a whisper.

Yasutomo’s hand loosened over his collar. Makoto furrowed his brow.

“Well, _would you?_ ”

Yasutomo opened his mouth to reply, but his jaw drooped wordlessly. A moment later, he released Makoto’s uniform and took a step back, as if no longer sure what to do with himself. Makoto sighed.

“I quit because it was long overdue,” he began, his eyes now turned to the ground. “I like baseball, I do, but there was no point in going on like this. After a while, I felt like I was just holding you back from leaving, when I knew for a fact that you weren’t happy anymore.”

“But, you were our ace catcher—”

“Well, I’m _done_ being a catcher on this team!” snapped Makoto, startling Yasutomo into silence. “I’ve had enough! I know I’m not supposed to fight, but it was so hard holding back when everyone was being a jerk to you! I’m sick of it, Tomo! I bet you thought I was dragging you away the other day so you wouldn’t get in trouble, but I was dragging both of us, because I was _this close_ to decking Kubo myself!”

Makoto colored at his own words. Yasutomo stared wide-eyed.

“Macchan… you got.. you got angry, for me?”

“I was furious!” Makoto threw his hands in the air. “And it wasn’t just him! I was so angry at everyone else, too! It’s like they’ve been waiting for this, like they’ve been waiting for you to fall so they could take your place, when you’ve been working harder than anyone! They can’t even reach your feet and they’re eating each other over who’s gonna get your spot! I don’t want to support a team like that anymore! They can lose prefecturals for all I care!”

Yasutomo stared at him wordlessly. Makoto lowered his head.

“I’m really sorry, Tomo… Remember how you told me in the hospital that reality can be turned on its head? I thought that was really powerful. Even though I told you that everything was lost, you were so brave, and I thought… that as long as you were willing to fight, I would support you no matter what. And I did, I did everything I could to support you, but… I no longer believe, that reality can be changed. I’m sorry, Tomo. You said you had seen reality turn around before, but I, I just don’t see it.”

Silence followed, if only because Yasutomo struggled to break out of his stupor, and when he did, he stumbled to the side and collapsed on the bottom steps, a few feet away from Makoto.

“You’re a real idiot, Macchan…” he mumbled into the folds of his arms, his shoulders quaking. Makoto glanced up, his brow creased in concern. Yasutomo gritted his teeth and dug his fingernails into his scalp.

“Is that really what you think?! That reality can’t be turned around? Are you _blind,_ Macchan?! _Open your eyes!_ When I said that, _I was talking about you! I’ve been fighting so hard all because of you!_ I knew I was doomed the moment you told me about my elbow, _but all I wanted was for you to still think I was cool!!_ ”

Makoto’s jaw dropped in utter shock. Yasutomo wanted to scream.

* * *

_Not all men are created equal, Macchan. I know that now. But I should have realized earlier, all those good things in you that I used to take for granted, or think so little of… and what made you, in due time, so much better than me._

_We’ve been friends since you were born, Macchan. I came first, so there were six months between us, and back then, six months made a huge difference. By the time you learned how to roll over on the futon, I was crawling about on all fours. By the time you could crawl across the room, I could stand and walk just fine. And by the time you rose to your feet, I was running…_

_I was having so much fun, Macchan. That difference between us made me feel like I was always ahead of you, even when you started catching up, and we were enrolled in the same kindergarten class. You made me feel big, and smart, and capable like nothing else did, even once every adult in my life started ganging up on me. You were shy, soft, and a scaredy cat, and because of that, I grew up self-confident, loud, and brave. Whenever you got scared, I held your hand and protected you. Whenever you got awkward, I broke the ice for you. If anyone tried to pick on you, I punched them in the gut. And whenever you cried, I told you ridiculous things and made faces until you started laughing again. I loved making you laugh. Because of you, I no longer have a filter, Macchan. If whatever tumbled out of my stupid mouth made you laugh till your stomach hurt, it was brilliant and worth saying, you know what I mean? Who cared what adults thought of me, when you looked at me like I was your hero?!_

_So that was me, and you… you were kind of normal, for a kid. The only thing remarkable about you back then, was how much of a soothing presence you had. I was having such a hard time trying to pat the neighborhood cats, while all you had to do is sit, and they came to you purring. You later taught me how to attract them, how to play with them, and how to hold them, and I did okay, but you were a real natural. Animals just felt safe around you, and because they did, little kids did, too. My sisters were born before the twins, and I spent the most time with them, but we were together so much, and you were so good to them, that they quickly accepted you as their other brother. As soon as they learned to talk, we became “Yattomo-niitan” and “Matoto-niitan,” and even though they were my siblings by blood, you were the one who showed me how to handle them, Macchan. How to have patience for them. What to do when they had tantrums. How to console them, and how to make them do the things I needed them to do. All these things that I should have been teaching you when your time came, I ended up learning from you._

_Back then, I had no idea how amazing that was. How amazing **you** were, Macchan. I convinced myself that whatever skills I taught you were somehow greater and more important than the everyday skills you taught me. First, there was play-wrestling, to blow off steam and have fun fights around the house. Then I taught you all sorts of self-defense stuff, how to fire a slingshot, how to play baseball, of course, and how to spit really long distances._

_…We kept quiet about that last one after mom caught me doing it from the balcony, but the rest were all essential life skills, right?! They were awesome things, right?!_

_Except I never let you fight for real. For one thing, I didn’t want you to get hurt, and for another, I knew your parents were proud of you for being such a nice kid despite being best friends with a monster like me, so in the end, you had learned all those things “just to be safe,” and never got around to using them. To make sure you never had to, I even had a talk with you about the consequences of fighting… sort of._

_“If you start picking fights, Macchan, sooner or later, your face is gonna get ugly and mean. Your brows will get all bent outta shape and your mouth is gonna be misshapen, and you’re gonna look butt ugly. You know all those bad guys on TV? They look so mean because they fight all the time. You got a cute face, Macchan, and you’re a good boy, so leave the fighting to me! I was born with a mean face, so I can fight all I want and there won’t be any difference. You just leave all the fighting to me!”_

_You kept telling me how I didn’t look mean at all – how did you put it? That I looked like a best friend, is what you said. That was pretty nice of you, Macchan. Anyway, you did promise you wouldn’t fight, and you didn’t, so I got to shine in your place… and for a while, we went on like this, with me thinking I was still ahead of you, especially once I got really good at pitching. Even though you were a great catcher, you remained in my shadow, Macchan, but I had no idea just how much you had done for me from the shadows. Whenever I was saying weird things around other people, you explained what I meant. If anyone was feeling uncomfortable around me, you said really nice things about me, to make them warm up to me. I had a lot of friends growing up because of you, the one kid everyone was failing to notice behind my back._

_I kinda hoped we would always stay like this. Once we got really serious about baseball and joined the middle school team in our first year, all I could think of was how I wanted to become a legendary pitcher in the majors, with you as my fan, or a benchwarmer at best. Somewhere close, but not too close, so you would keep admiring me…_

_I was really naïve, wasn’t I. I should have seen it coming, but it never occurred to me how much of a difference it would make. I mean, I was six months older than you, Macchan! I figured I would always be bigger and stronger! It’s only fair, right? I was here first!! I paved the way, Macchan, so you should have just followed me!!_

_It was **wild,** Macchan. Just a few months after I won the New Pitcher Award, you finally hit puberty, and for the first time, reality turned around right in front of my eyes._

_It started with your voice. You used to have a cute voice that matched your baby face, and when it started cracking, I honestly thought you’d finally sound loud and coarse, like I did. Instead, when your voice stopped wobbling all over the place, it sounded like you were half asleep all the time, which made people want to listen to you even less… but whenever you sang, it was like a miracle, Macchan. When I first heard you sing in music class, I was blown away, but that was nothing compared to how you made_ Koi no Hime Hime Pettanko _sound like a goddamn power ballad! My sisters and the twins made you sing it like ten times, and then got into a fight over who would get to marry you!! Even Ren!!_

_I got so mad, I kicked them all out of the living room. There was no way I could compete with you! You sounded like a rock star, Macchan, and I, I can’t even sing like a normal person! God knows I tried, but I sound like a wolf having a seizure!! No little sister would ever want to marry that!!_

_And then, your body changed, too. You weren’t all that remarkable, growing up, but once you got your first growth spurt, your shoulders sprouted like wings. You got way wider than me. And tall! You got stupid tall, Macchan. Whenever there was a crowd, you could just stand around and see everything while I was struggling on tiptoe! But the worst thing wasn’t even that. The worst thing was that once you grew taller than me, I could no longer win a single wrestling match. I was the one who taught you all the moves when we were little, and most of the time, I could get the better of you, but after that, nothing. I just couldn’t find a proper grip on you. I will never forget the day I got so frustrated, I kept fighting long after your first signal to wear you down, and what did you do? You grabbed me and folded me into a pretzel, right in front of my sisters! It was so humiliating, Macchan!!_

_That was another thing I hated about you, Macchan. The only thing I got out of puberty was a height boost and a voice that scared the shit out of everyone, but your upgrades kept popping up like they were never gonna end! Screw being a great singer and stupid tall and good-looking, you just had to get freakishly strong, too!! Remember when you first did the carousel, Macchan? How one day you just decided to lift Ran and Ren with one arm each and spin them round and round because you felt like you could do it? When I went home and told my sisters, they wanted me to do the same thing to them, and you know what happened? Both of my arms gave out the moment their feet left the ground! My arms literally snapped under them and I couldn’t move them for a week straight! I thought I was gonna die! I made them swear they would never tell anyone. I told them I would burn the house down if they told on me! I was that embarrassed, Macchan!!_

_And yet, nobody seemed to notice these things except for our families, Macchan. It honestly weirded me out that to everyone else, I managed to stay the Bigger Deal just because of my loud mouth and my pitching._

_I should have been happy with that, but all the while, I watched you grow taller and stronger and nicer looking with dread, Macchan. I was almost glad I hit you in the face all those years ago and accidentally made you a catcher. If you had become a flashy batter, hitting home runs with those big, strong arms of yours? Girls would have eaten you up, Macchan..! Luckily for most of us, you spent all your time crouching behind the batters in a mask and chest plate, but no matter how much you were hiding from the world, I was still conscious of how much you had surpassed me in everything except baseball, in all those areas I had once taken for granted, or thought were trivial and meaningless._

_No matter how many tricks you had taught me, cats still liked you better. I was the one feeding them, and yet they purred loudest for you._

_Whenever we played video games, you got so competitive, I almost broke my console trying to keep up with you. Actually, I don’t think I’ve won a single game since we were seven. I’m still not sure what’s up with you and games, but once you start, you flip some sort of weird switch and become the angel of death, Macchan. You didn’t know the meaning of losing to make others feel better about themselves, either. You beat the twins and my sisters every time, but somehow, none of them hated you for it. They loved taking a piss at me, but you? It was like you could do no wrong, Macchan..!_

_You also never forgot your homework, and brought home better grades. The same outfit looked great on you, and sagged on me because I grew up to be skinny and awkward. Your records were flawless, and my mom kept comparing us whenever she lectured me. In a million little ways, you left me in the dirt, Macchan._

_After a while, I felt like being great at pitching was all I had left, and it was only a matter of time before everyone else discovered just how much better you were in everything else. Maybe the real reason I overworked myself, waiting for that tournament, was that I wanted to keep this one last thing. I desperately wanted to you think I was still cool… I wanted to remain your hero, Macchan..!_

_And then I broke my elbow, because having even one thing was just too good for a dirtbag like me. When you told me how my elbow would never be the same, it nearly destroyed me, Macchan. The only reason I didn’t lash out like an animal then and there, was that you sounded genuinely brokenhearted about it. I could tell you wanted me to succeed, and were scared that I wouldn’t, and somehow, that helped me. The more anxious you looked, the calmer I felt, Macchan. I told myself I would be brave and strong for your sake. If there was even the slightest chance of a complete recovery, I would take it, and do everything in my power so I could stay your hero!_

_I sure let you down, didn’t I, Macchan…_ _I was all bravado till the last minute, nothing but thinly veiled desperation and rage, and in the end, of all people, I took it out on you, my best friend of fourteen years, and the only guy on the team who still supported me. And now, even your career is over, all because of me…_

_I’m sorry, Macchan… without my pitching, I really am just a loud, angry loser, aren’t I..?_

_I’m not even good enough.. to be your friend…_

* * *

_At that moment, I truly believed all of that. I had hit rock bottom, Macchan. If you had told me that you hated me, that I was an embarrassment, that you never wanted to talk to me again because I failed you, I would have believed that, too. And because of that, what you said instead shocked me more than anything._

“ _Tomo…_ The only idiot around here is **_you!_** ”

Yasutomo whipped his head up to see Makoto tower above him, his fists clenched by his sides.

“What are you even saying?! That you thought I no longer thought you were cool? I never said anything like that! That’s all on you, Tomo! You made that up, not me! I never stopped thinking you were cool, not even for a second! You’re my best friend! _I love everything about you! **Why the hell wouldn’t I think that you’re cool?!**_ ”

Yasutomo gaped at him like a fish out of water. Makoto growled.

“Ever since we were little kids, you’ve been there for me in a way no one else ever has! You were there for me when I was scared or in trouble! No matter what we were facing, you always came through for me! We’ve been through so much together, and you never stopped moving forward and inspiring me! What could possibly be cooler than a friend like that?! You’re cool because of who you are, not because of what you can do, Tomo! Because of who you are, _you will always be cool to **me!**_ ”

* * *

_Amazing… That’s what I thought, at that moment. You were hovering like an inch from my face, yelling your head off the way only you could when you got angry, Macchan, and all I could think of was how amazing you were._

_I opened my mouth to tell you that, but nothing came out. I was honestly stunned by all your angry praise, Macchan. On the day I threw my gloves and shoes in the trash, I just felt hollow, like a part of me had been ripped out. But there you were, yelling my head off about how cool I was, and somewhere along the way, that emptiness in my chest somehow became lightness. I felt like you had untied a huge stone from around my neck, one that’s been pulling me down for months, and at any moment, I was gonna float away into the sky like a cloud, or one of those helium balloons…_

_And I thought, you’re the only one I want to praise me, Macchan… If the coolest guy I know, thinks I’m cool… That’s good enough for me…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I was looking up the meaning of Yasutomo's name (it is a combination of yasui, 'healthy' and tomo, 'friend'), Wikipedia helpfully informed me that "Kubo Yasutomo is a Japanese professional baseball pitcher for the Yokohama DeNA BayStars in Japan's Nippon Professional Baseball." This delighted me, so even though it was unflattering of me, I used his surname for the pitcher taking a crack at Arakita in middle school, because search though I did, I couldn't find out if that character had a name. He even had a few lines in the anime, too, but was not mentioned in any rundown of minor characters that I could find. Sorry, Kubo-sensei. Maybe this character became a better person eventually!
> 
> Meanwhile, Captain Terajima was named after the author of _Daiya no Ace,_ a series I should really get into. I like references, hehe.


	4. End of Middle School, First Two Years of High School.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _If the coolest guy I know, thinks I’m cool… That’s good enough for me…_

_But you didn’t wanna stop there, Macchan. It took you a while to calm down, and it took me just as long to pull myself together, but when you spoke again, you surprised me all over again._

_“It’s not over yet, Tomo. I know we’ve quit the team, and there’s no point in joining another club this late into our third year, but this year is still ahead of us, and then we’ll have three more years in high school. So let’s start over, Tomo! It’s gonna be hard, but let’s find a new sport that both of us can do, and see how far we can go again! This is not your limit! There has to be something out there, just waiting for us, so what do you say? Are you with me?!”_

_Your determination was scary, Macchan. We were just a couple of has-beens at that point, guys with no place to go, and honestly, I was terrified. I never told you, but I hadn’t been able to look myself in the mirror lately. I was too scared to think of myself objectively.. to acknowledge that I was a nobody. But you, you weren’t scared at all, Macchan. You just stood there with your hand held out, and when I took your hand, you pulled me to my feet like I was weightless. It was really funny in a way. For all the times I had been strong and brave for your sake, you came through for me like a champ in the eleventh hour._

_I wanted to believe that we could start over. I could hear a voice inside me, asking me how far I wanted to go, and I thought, take me to the top! It doesn’t matter where it is! I will do whatever it takes, so just pave the way, Macchan! I will follow you! It’s a promise..!_

* * *

_We rang the bell at the shrine to seal that promise, and then you walked me down to my house, where I asked you for just a little more time. I said, give me this weekend before we start, Macchan, and I think you understood right away. You knew me well, and how I was with household chores. In the end, it really did take two days to pack up everything baseball-related in my room and stuff it into the closet, and I needed to do this alone._

_It was unreal, how empty my room looked afterwards, Macchan. It honestly felt like a part of me had been permanently erased, and there you were, expecting me to fill the void with something else. To replace a childhood passion, Macchan! Just how much of a selfish guy are you, huh? And yet, strangely enough, I felt calm, even if just a little bit. That summer, after months spent in the dark, unable to find a way out, cleaning my room felt like I had gotten my foot on the first step. I was really grateful to you, Macchan. I wasn’t sure what I would have done on my own, but when you told me to find a new sport, something became clear to me. I had to sever my ties with baseball for a while. I had to stop thinking about what I couldn’t have, so I could focus on something that was actually in reach! Could have, would have, should have… those things wrap around your heart, and keep you from moving. For months now, every time I looked at my New Pitcher Award sitting on the nightstand, I felt like the weight of it was crushing me. I hadn’t even shined it in a while. But now I shined it one more time, and then I wrapped it up and put it away. No matter where I was headed, I couldn’t afford to be held back by a big, shiny paper weight, could I, Macchan…_

_On Sunday evening, I showed you my room, and I could tell you had the same reaction I did the first time I saw the results. But all you told me was, “Don’t worry, Tomo. We will fill it up again,” and hearing you say that made me feel better._

_That’s how it all began. That July, while the whole school was blowing up over the prefectural tournament, we holed ourselves up in the library, to look for a place to go next April._

_I told myself I wasn’t gonna be picky about it. I only had one condition, just one, Macchan: I didn’t want to go to a school that had a baseball team. Like with my room, I just wanted to distance myself from baseball for a while. It didn’t have to be forever. I felt I might even take out my New Pitcher Award again, if I ever got another trophy that big, but not before, you know?_

_I was really glad you agreed with me, Macchan. I should have been mad that baseball meant so little to you, but in the end, you not liking baseball as much as I did made things a little easier for both of us._

_We needed all the help we could get, if I’m honest. Once we started looking for eligible high schools with strong, renowned sports teams, it became clear just how narrow our choices had become because of me, Macchan. It wasn’t impossible to master a sport in three years or less, I was convinced you and I could do it if we gave it everything we had, but if it required actively using my right elbow, it was out. That meant like almost every single thing you play with a ball, Macchan! Basketball, volleyball, tennis? Fat chance! And stuff like soccer, water polo, or swimming? Even that was stretching it! I might have been able to play soccer, Macchan, but because of your fear of being hit with a ball, and being the clumsiest guy I know, you would have been an accident just waiting to happen… and neither of us could swim all that well. I mean, we both had swimming lessons when we were little kids, but you weren’t exactly fond of water, and we were playing baseball all the time, anyway, so who cared about going for a swim in the ocean, am I right?_

_I kinda regretted not learning how to swim properly when I saw how cool Samezuka Academy’s campus looked, but what were we supposed to do? It was kinda late to decide if we liked water or not… and that just left Iwatobi High School, where the biggest sports club was track and field._

_Before that, I never really cared about track, so we looked it up. It apparently included things like running, jumping, and throwing – you know, boring stuff, but I didn’t need a perfect right elbow to run fast, and Macchan, your options were even better! Iwatobi High wasn’t even that far from our neighborhood, so we could both stay at home, and go to school together every day, and that was reassuring, too. Living in a dorm is probably way cooler, but who cares when carrying on like we always did was less of a hassle, you know?_

_By the time we decided to go with Iwatobi High School, I was itching do something, anything. We spent almost three weeks looking over all the high schools in the area, and while we were still looking, I didn’t really worry about my condition, but once we made up our minds about running, I got anxious about training so we’d have enough stamina, Macchan. Our middle school had no track and field club, though, and it wasn’t like I wanted any of our shitty ex-teammates to know what we were up to, so we did the only thing we could think of, and took to the mountains, to do climbing and fartlek. Fartlek is supposed to be really good for your muscles, and if we wanted to be in top shape by April, we couldn’t afford to slack off. We were gonna be amateurs, little greenhorns compared to guys who had been doing track since middle school, but damn it all to hell if we were gonna go unprepared!_

_It was really hard though, Macchan. Fartlek sounded great in theory, but when we had enough of running along the bay and really took to the hills, it was fucking exhausting._

_I puked so much the first few times, and got blisters all over my feet. The only reason I didn’t throw in the towel right away was because of you, Macchan. Whenever I stopped to throw up, you always rushed right back, and held onto me so I wouldn’t pass out in my own vomit. Whenever my legs were about to fall off, if I told you to carry me, you gave me piggy back rides until I got too embarrassed and told you to put me down so I could walk. And the damn blisters? You took one look at my foot, and said they looked like a cat’s toe beans, so I had a cat’s foot. That was so unfair, Macchan. The way you said it, you made those things sound kinda cute, you asshole! I even took a picture of my foot, and almost felt sorry when the blisters finally popped!! How embarrassing can you get, Macchan?! God, you’re so annoying!_

_That’s what I told you, every time you tried to cheer me up, but I was really grateful, Macchan. No matter what shape I ended up in, no matter how much I complained, as long as you were right there with me, running beside or in front of me, I didn’t wanna stop. I told myself that even if all I’d ever do is chase after you, Macchan, I would do it! You were my hero now, and I would stick to you like glue even if it killed me!!_

_That’s what got me through autumn, then winter and early spring. Through rain and wind and snow, we just kept running. We ran so often and so much, the rest of the year was mostly a blur._

_In November, just like Terajima said, we received a certificate, and a memento from the baseball club. For you, Macchan, it was your old chest plate, and for me, it was the glove I had thrown in the trash, both signed by every other member of the club. Some of the first years even wrote nice messages for us. Stuff like, “thank you for coaching!” and “it was great playing with you!” That was sweet of them, wasn’t it, Macchan. Those snot-nosed kids were more mature than most of the second-years in the club._

_For Christmas, we got brand new sneakers, among other things, because our families were totally on board with us ditching baseball for track. Technically, we were no better now than the go-home club, but the way everyone got our backs helped a lot._

_And you know what else, Macchan? As we kept training, and our bodies changed with it, I no longer felt so weird about the difference between us. When you hit your next growth spurt in December, you got even taller, and more muscular than ever, but I didn’t feel envious at all! I just thought you looked really, really great… our hair started growing out, too, and I almost forgot you had thick, spiky hair. You looked really good like that, Macchan. Every now and again, I caught myself admiring you as we were running, and I thought, now there’s a good, strong-looking guy… he and I are gonna go far..! Yeah..!_

_And we did, Macchan! We passed our entrance exams, graduated in March like nothing had happened in July, and come April, we enrolled in Iwatobi High School with filled out track club applications in our hands. I was so excited, my hands were tingling! I could tell, Macchan: I was gonna be in great form..!_

_Over four months passed before we first got to shine, though. Apparently, the biggest priority till the end of summer was preparing for the Inter-High, where first-years rarely made the roster, no matter how good they were. The track club had a lot more members than I expected, so there were plenty of second-years and third-years, and while us first-years were outnumbered like that, all our seniors allowed us to do was come and cheer for them. It was a stupid rule, not letting us compete on merit, and I was really pissed at them for not even considering us, but the captain told me to suck it up and save my strength for the junior track meet in September. That was our consolation prize for being excluded from the Inter-High. It wasn’t a huge event, but it did have a first-year division so schools could flaunt their new recruits, and that was gonna be our grand debut, Macchan, yours and mine…_

* * *

“Well, that’s it for your individual events,” said the captain. “Now, for the men’s Swedish relay… Arakita Yasutomo! Sera Tadanori! Tachibana Makoto! Tadokoro Junichi!”

One by one, the chosen first-years cried “Yes!” and lined up in a row. The captain hummed.

“According to our latest time trials, you four performed top of your group, which qualifies you for the men’s Swedish relay. In the Swedish relay, a team of four members runs legs of a hundred meters, two hundred meters, three hundred meters, and four hundred meters, in that order. We must enter your names and your positions, so it’s time to decide who will run which leg. First, who will be your anchor?

“Our anchor?” Makoto raised his hand. The captain hummed.

“The anchor is the most crucial position in a race. The anchor runs the final leg, so he either has to preserve your lead to the end, or overtake every runner ahead of him in order to win the race. Usually, the fastest and most experienced runners are chosen as anchors, but since you are still beginners, there is no obvious choice here. Tachibana!”

“Y-Yes!” cried Makoto, his shoulders stiff and arms pressed to his sides. Yasutomo quirked his brow.

“What about you as the anchor?” offered the captain. “You have decent stamina and a rough, dynamic sprint.”

“Tachibana’s strong, but he’s not very good at pacing himself,” spoke Tadanori. “A shorter distance might be better for him.”

“That’s true,” admitted Makoto. “When I get anxious or excited, I sometimes can’t help myself and burn out too soon…”

Yasutomo made a face. _Come on, Macchan, have more faith in yourself! Don’t just take it, show him you’re better than this..!_

“But,” continued Makoto, his eyes fixed on the captain, “I think Yasutomo would make a good anchor.”

“Arakita, the anchor?” scoffed Junichi. “Even I can pass him during practice! He’s so slow at times and always complains!”

“Oi, I’m right here, you know! Take it up with me, why dontcha?!” growled Yasutomo, shaking a fist in Junichi’s direction. Makoto reached over behind Tadanori’s back to give Yasutomo’s shoulder a friendly tap. Yasutomo huffed, but remained where he was. Junichi laughed and waved his hands in surrender.

“What are your reasons for recommending Arakita, Tachibana?” pressed the captain. Makoto cleared his throat, and when he spoke again, his hands now tucked behind his back, his expression turned solemn.

“I know Yasutomo better than anyone, and no matter what he is like during practice, he will always give it his all in serious competition. He’s also a good sprinter, so there is no reason to suppose he wouldn’t make a good anchor. And besides…” he turned his head to flash his friend a smile, “…he’s always fastest when he's chasing. If I had to pass the baton to him in the eleventh hour, with several runners ahead of us, I would be confident that Yasutomo would find the strength to overtake them all.”

Yasutomo bared his teeth in shock, keenly conscious that he had colored to the tips of his ears at the unexpected praise. _Dammit, Macchan..! What are you trying to do, huh?!_

“But Yasutomo cannot do it alone,” continued Makoto, his face hardening as he raised his fist in determination. “And that is why I volunteer to be third, and use my power sprint to pass the baton to him as fast as possible.”

Tadanori and Junichi exchanged curious glances, then looked to Yasutomo, but as their chosen anchor stood speechless and failed to protest, Tadanori lifted his fist and nudged it towards Makoto’s.

“Then I’ll go first, and get us as big a lead as possible,” he declared with a content smile. Junichi huffed and shook his head, but soon broke into a grin and stepped closer.

“It can’t be helped, then!” he bumped his fist against Tadanori’s and Makoto’s. “Then I’ll be second! Don’t worry, Sera, I won’t let your efforts go to waste!”

“Then it’s decided! Let’s work together, and win this relay!” cheered Makoto, then finally turned his attention to Yasutomo, who still stared at them in astonishment. “Well, Tomo? Are you with us..?” he asked with a huge grin on his face.

Yasutomo choked. He could feel his cheeks heat up again, but at the sight of those eager faces and three fists held out waiting for his, he clicked his tongue and smacked his knuckles against theirs.

“ _Fine!_ Have it your way, Macchan,” he muttered, lips pursed. “But you had better work hard! Making me the anchor is useless if the three of you slack off, you got that?!”

“We won’t, we won’t!” groused Junichi. Tadanori and Makoto laughed.

“Then it’s decided,” said their captain. “The men’s Swedish relay team shall be Sera Tadanori, Tadokoro Junichi, Tachibana Makoto, and Arakita Yasutomo, in that order. You still have a month until the track meet, so work hand, and make Iwatobi High School proud!”

“ ** _Yes!_** ”

* * *

_What was that, Macchan..? Huh?_

_What do you think you were doing, making me run the most, huh..?_

_I hate to admit it, but you caught me off guard, Macchan. I always knew you loved having your way, but since you’re barely noticeable most of the time, I never really thought about just how good you were at making people do what you wanted. All you did was praise me a little, and say that you would pass me the baton, and somehow, everyone just went along with it. Even me, the guy you heaped all the damn responsibility on! You’re unbelievable, Macchan!!_

_I remember pulling you aside after that, to ask what you were thinking, spewing all that crap about me... and all you told me was,_

_“I know that you will want to reach that finish line faster than any of us.”_

_Your words gave me the chills, Macchan. I would not have said it in a million years, but you had the right idea about me. The junior track meet was still a month away, but I was already starving… and you knew that making me the anchor would allow me to seize victory with my own hands! The one crossing the finish line was gonna be **me..!**_

_“Are you excited yet, Tomo..?”_

_Excited..? I was **ecstatic,** Macchan!! I had to run the most, the longest, but the best moment of that race had been reserved for me..! You reserved it for me, Macchan!_

_I could hardly contain myself when I finally realized what you did. I wanted to start training right away! I did learn from my injury, and took rests often enough, but every moment I could spare, I was preparing myself for the Swedish relay. If I wasn’t down on the track field running laps, I was doing fartlek. When my legs really started to feel it, I did stretches and yoga. My sisters taught me, Macchan. They said it would make me flexible, and if being flexible made me even a little faster, I had to give it a try! Yoga poses are ridiculous, though. I’m not sure I’d want to do them with you in the room, you know what I mean..?_

_Oh, man… that month passed in the blink of an eye, but I still remember that relay like it was yesterday._

_Our individual events were pretty forgettable. Compared to guys who had been doing track since middle school, we kinda sucked. You were new to throwing, so your technique was still lacking. And I was so new to jumping, I forgot that screaming alone wasn’t gonna help me hover in the air. I should have kicked my legs instead. Live and learn, right, Macchan?_

_But that relay… that was really something. By the time Sera got into position in Lane Seven, my nerves were on **fire!** Don’t get me wrong, Macchan, I was hoping you three would be the fastest. It would have been a pain in the ass to start at a disadvantage! It would have been so much work! But damn it, I didn’t care at all! After all the training we did, after all we’ve been through, I was gonna devour anyone who dared get in front of me!!_

_“Ready… **Go!** ”_

_I remember Sera running his ass off to get us ahead. When Tadokoro took the baton, we were in third place, but by the time he passed it to you, we had fallen to fifth place. Honestly, I should have expected that, too. Most of these guys had been doing track for years, of course they were gonna be faster! But even though I was furious about fifth place, more than anything, I wanted to fight! And you, you kept your promise too, Macchan. I know you had been working on your pacing for a while, and you were going to show us the results… but instead, to bring us back, you broke into an all-out power sprint the moment you grabbed the baton. I had never seen you run so fast before! You looked so powerful, Macchan..! Like a super hero! Or a Stand! You looked so cool, you bastard! I couldn’t wait for you to get to me!!_

_You brought us back to fourth place with that sprint. The last hundred meters were probably killing you, but your eyes were always on me, and you ran like there was no tomorrow. I could smell it from afar. That pure, determined scent..!_

_When you passed the baton, I felt a current run through my palm. I could tell you had been holding onto that baton for dear life, Macchan. There were still three guys ahead of me, but it didn’t matter anymore, because you had risked everything just to get me started!_

_All that mattered was carrying that baton to the finish line..!_

_I could hear you behind me. “GOOO, **TOMOOO!!** ”_

_Man, that was an awesome battle cry, Macchan..! But I was really in a pinch, you know?! Those three guys and I, we were getting desperate! I felt like my heart was gonna burst any moment..! But I thought, **so what?!** **Let it burst!** My legs will keep going even if it kills me!!_

_I remember screaming the entire time. I was yelling my head off as I passed the first guy, and howling like an animal as I passed the second guy. The look on his face, Macchan..! I thought I was gonna piss myself..! But I couldn’t relax just yet! The third guy was the real deal! So I kept running, and running, and running, and when I got in reach, my legs suddenly felt like they were wings..! You are always the fastest when you are about to drop..!_

_“ **Out of my way!** That finish line is waiting for me!! I’ll show you how Iwatobi High School’s number four sprints!!”_

_I’ll show you.. **Macchaaan…!!**_

_I overtook that guy at the last few seconds, and crossed the finish line screaming._

_Man.. I was exhausted…! It was really hard, you know..?!_

_And I couldn’t have done it without you, Macchan… You nominated me for the anchor.. You chose to be the third runner because you knew we would be able to practice baton passing even in our free time… and when we did it, the way you called out to me, made me want to fly all the way to the finish line..!_

_Man… that was a good run, even for me… I did really well, didn’t I, Macchan..?_

_I didn’t even care about the medal, or the trophy. All I wanted was for you to praise me… but what you did instead, blew me away._

_I could hear cheering, so much cheering everywhere, and I felt the guys slap my shoulders and rub my head, but all I saw was you, running towards me with your arms held out. I don’t know what possessed you, Macchan, but the moment I won, and you were allowed back on the tracks, you rushed over, grabbed me beneath my arms, and spun me around in the air..! You spun me around like I was a Disney princess, Macchan..! And when you finally stopped spinning, you held me so tight I thought I was gonna die! I was so annoyed with you!! You were being ridiculous!! But then… then I saw your face, and heard your voice._

_“ **YOU DID IT, TOMO!! AND IN YOUR FIRST YEAR, TOO..!** ”_

_You yelled that at the top of your lungs, like you wanted to tell the entire world about me! And the way you looked at me, all big eyes, flushed cheeks, that huge grin on your face… oh, god, the look in your eyes, Macchan…_

_It made me.._

_fall apart…_

* * *

_You could have had no idea what you had done to me. You probably still don’t… but you did a real number on me that day, Macchan._

_Until that moment, I never really thought about stuff like love, or romance. Or if I did, it wasn’t about me. Like every Valentine’s Day, when the guys in my class rubbed their anonymous love letters and stupid honmei chocos in my face. It seriously pissed me off! I never got anything! Not even a stinking note!! Though, I guess, I wouldn’t have known what to do with a note, even if I got one. If anyone asked, sure, I liked girls, of course I did, I’m a guy, right? But deep down, I had no idea if I really liked girls, or guys, or both. I mean, how do you know if you never got to date any before? Like, if you’re unsure, then don’t knock girls or guys until you’ve been with some and thought, eh, maybe not, is what I’m saying! That’s reasonable, right?_

_But that day, when you spun me around and held me up and looked at me like I was the greatest thing you’ve ever seen… my knees got weak, Macchan. My knees got so weak, I couldn’t stand when you tried to put me down. You thought it was because I exhausted myself with that last spurt, but that was a big fat lie, Macchan. The way you held me in your arms had turned me into jelly._

_I was so out of it, you held onto me for a while, just to be safe. And every time someone mentioned the relay, you turned back to look at me the same way you did when I won. That look has gotta be illegal, Macchan… I had to change pants before the awards ceremony because of your smile. Your **smile,** Macchan..!_

_That night, I thought I was gonna burst, so I locked my door, and instead of digging out a gravure magazine from the closet, I took out my phone and jerked off to a picture of you from the awards ceremony. It was **wild,** Macchan. I won my first track race, and you turned me into a raging homo, all in the span of some twenty seconds._

_Sheesh… but that’s just like you, isn’t it, Macchan. Just when I thought things would finally get back on track, you turned reality on its head all over again.. Just how many times have you done that so far? You’re seriously too much, you know..?_

_From that moment, all I wanted was for you to hold me, and look at me like you did back then. I felt I needed to impress you so you’d have a reason to! But there were no more track meets scheduled for the rest of the year. The next one was gonna be in March, and I, I couldn’t wait that long, Macchan! Once the junior track meet was over, once all talk of it was over everywhere, you went back to the way we’ve always been, and it was downright killing me. It was so frustrating..! After that day, no matter what we were doing, I no longer felt comfortable around you. I was scared to stare at you, but god, I wanted to!! I wanted you to pay attention to me, but whenever you did, I thought I was gonna burst! How’s a guy supposed to win with you, huh?!_

_In the end, frustration won, though. I desperately wanted you to pay attention me, I wanted you to touch me, even if it meant nothing to you, so I started bitching and whining at you for everything, and pulled stupid stunts just to get as close to you as I could. Looking back, I was more annoying than that chick from that one shoujo manga, the one that goes “Suzuki-kun!! Suzuki-kun!!!” except I went “Macchan!! Macchan!!!” and I was an ugly, hopeless jerk to boot. Cute girls can get away with being bitchy sometimes, but guys like me? Not in a million years! How you have the patience to deal with this shit never ceases to amaze me, Macchan! I don’t know if it’s because you’ve always been good with kids or not, but you bore with all that crap like a champ, and you fixed my ties, and buttoned my shirts, and held me for warmth when I bitched about being cold like it was the most natural thing in the world. It really isn’t! Only mother hens like you do this shit, you know!! You’re unbelievable!!_

_Bitching and whining wasn’t all I did, though. Whenever I managed to pull my head out of my ass and calm down for a bit, I tried to be nice to you, Macchan. I was too scared to tell you how I felt, and just as scared to be nice and sweet to you like you deserved, so I mostly did things in secret._

_You know how you were appointed captain of the track team “per special recommendation?” **I** recommended you, Macchan. One time when we were moving equipment for practice, Senpai told me that with my track record and dedication, I would make a good captain with Sera as vice-captain, but I refused. I mean, it was kinda flattering, because I might have been captain of the baseball team if I hadn’t gotten injured, but I stopped living in the past long ago. I really have, Macchan. I didn’t even thank Senpai for thinking so well of me. Instead, I told him that without you, I wouldn’t even have joined in the first place, let alone won that Swedish relay in my first year. I told him how you got me back on my feet in middle school, how you helped Ryuugazaki get out of his slump and got Wonderboy Hazuki to find his specialty, something you took zero credit for, and that if he made you captain, you would keep moving the team forward no matter what, because that’s just the kind of guy you are, Macchan. And besides… you were the only one I’d acknowledge as captain. No one else can tell me what to do!!_

_God, you were so surprised at all the praise you got that day… It still baffles me how little you seem to think of yourself, Macchan. I know you’d never learned how to put yourself forward, and your voice sounds like you’re in a coma, so people tend to ignore you, and maybe I tease you too much, too, but dammit, Macchan, you act surprised even when people do notice you! Like Valentine’s Day last year, and that was way before you became captain!_

_Remember that day, Macchan? Remember that big batch of misshapen homemade chocolates in your locker, that big batch without a note? **I made** those chocolates, Macchan. My sisters wanted to make chocolate for Valentine’s, but they suck at delicate shit like this, so I made them a batch each, and then I went and made two more batches just for you! I even made chocolate coated oranges because of your name! I’m worse than a lovesick school girl, Macchan!!_

_I didn’t write you a note, though. The idea of taking all that chocolate to school and slipping it into your locker without getting caught was already scary as hell, Macchan. By the time I made myself go through with it, I was sweating like a pig, and looked so unhinged that everyone around me just sorta backed out of the locker room. They probably thought I was gonna murder someone, and I would have if they had seen me do it. I wasn’t completely hopeless, but damn it all to hell if I’ll let anyone catch me trying to get with someone who’s way out of my league! There’s only so much risk a guy can take, Macchan!!_

_At least I got to see the look on your face when you opened your locker. Mine was empty as usual, but I didn’t even care. All that mattered was that yours finally wasn’t._

_You were so surprised, Macchan. But so was I, because my chocolates weren’t the only ones in there. You never got anything before, but doing well at the track and field club must have gotten you some fans…_

_Not that I cared! Little store-bought boxes can’t compete with a zip-lock bag full of chocolate! No matter how pretty or cutesy they are, once you throw all that extra shit away, there’s hardly any chocolate left! Quantity over quality, Macchan! I just skipped the appearances and went straight for the content!!_

_Yeah..! I sure beat them there… But being a coward still bit me in the ass. The two boxes had notes, and my bag didn’t. Both were from girls, too, one from our class and one from another._

_“Well, this is new..! But I’m glad they included a note. This way, I can return the favor on White Day,” you told me. And when you got to my zip-lock bag, you frowned._

_“This one doesn’t have a note… that’s too bad. Whoever made these must have put a lot of effort into them, but if I don’t know who it was, I can’t even thank them…”_

_I thought I was gonna die right there, Macchan. I just gave you half a kilogram of honmei choco and you were upset because you couldn’t give anything back! Just how much of a selfless jerk are you?! You could have at least looked happy! Instead you looked like it was the worst! God damn it!!_

_I remember asking you, “What if it was like a really creepy girl, or some weird guy that gave you those chocolates, Macchan? What kind of sloppy asshole puts honmei choco in a zip-lock bag, huh?!” but you, you still insisted you would have given something back. Even if you didn’t like the person who gave it to you, you said,_

_“It’s only fair to give something back. It’s the polite thing to do.”_

_At that moment, I was kinda glad I didn’t put a note in there after all. If you had given me anything on White Day just out of politeness, I would have died on the spot. I really would have, Macchan. But instead, I got to die of envy when you brought two gift packages to school on White Day, and gave them to those girls for giving you those puny little boxes. You didn’t seem interested in them otherwise, but you were really nice and suave about it, and I thought, damn you, Arakita Yasutomo, you could have been one of those girls!! Macchan even knows what you like! You could have gotten some top notch gifts for your trouble, dumbass!!_

_But don’t you worry, Macchan, I learned from my mistakes. Now I know better than to let an opportunity pass, and I’ve been practicing a lot in home ec. So just you wait, Macchan! Valentine’s is only a month away, and this time, I’m gonna write a note!! I won’t sign it with my name, I’m not that stupid, but I’ll make sure you find out it was me! Maybe I’ll lure you to some hidden place and confess like it’s straight out of a shoujo manga!!_

_And if you can’t like me back, Macchan… if you just end up staring at me and awkwardly apologizing for not being able to like me the way I like you… then I’ll transfer out, run away from home, and start all over again under an alias. Maybe I’ll go to Australia and become a swimmer or something. I’ll make it to the Olympics and give interviews on TV in nothing but my swimming trunks, and then you’ll regret not falling in love with me while you still had the chance, Macchan!!_

_Heh… Who am I kidding… My English sucks, and I can’t swim anything except doggy paddle. I don’t wanna leave that badly.. so please like me back, Macchan…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some trivia for you!
> 
> Sera Tadanori and Arakita Yasutomo share a voice actor. They don't sound much alike, but you can tell if you listen to them side by side. Since Rei was a second year when Sera was captain of the track team in _Free! Eternal Summer,_ that makes him Makoto's (and Yasutomo's) age.
> 
> Tadokoro Junichi's name was mentioned in the first episode of _Free!_ during row call. You only hear two names (his, and Tezuka Kaori's), and since I decided to go with a men's Swedish relay, I chose Tadokoro as the fourth member, to have someone technically canon complete the team. The fact that he shares his surname with a Yowapeda character, and his first name is reminiscent of both Jin and Juichi, was just a sweet bonus.
> 
> Finally, Yasutomo making homemade chocolates was inspired by [this pedalcopybot-e post.](http://pedalcopybot-e.tumblr.com/post/110080316885/arakita-to-whoever-receives-my-sisters-homemade) I love that blog, it's fantastic.


	5. February, Second Year of High School.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Mako-chan, Tomo-chan! Wait for us!” cried Nagisa with a flail of his arms as he and Rei hurried down the hall, to join Makoto and Yasutomo on their way to the locker rooms. Makoto raised his hand for a small wave hello, but Yasutomo clicked his tongue over his bottle of Bepsi.

“You’re too loud, Hazuki,” he grumbled when Nagisa and Rei caught up at last. “And show some respect, you’re talking to your captain and vice-captain, you know..!”

Nagisa brushed him off with a nervous giggle, but Rei swooped forward in a deep bow, startling Yasutomo into taking a step backwards.

“We apologize, Makoto-senpai, Yasutomo-senpai!” his voice reverberated across the empty hallway. Yasutomo sighed and shook his head.

“It’s okay, Nagisa, Rei,” said Makoto, though his smile shone a little faint. “Did you want to tell us something?”

“Oh, it’s nothing serious, don’t worry, Mako-chan,” said Nagisa with a grin. “We just heard this rumor from Tadokoro-senpai that you got something _crazy_ for Valentine’s Day last year, so can we watch you open your locker?!”

Makoto gave a frightened peep and flushed crimson. Yasutomo nearly choked on his drink.

“What the hell, Hazuki!!” he snapped at Nagisa a moment too late, his brow twitching at his kouhai’s nerve. Even Rei gaped at Nagisa flabbergasted, having been lured there under false pretenses that had nothing to do with Valentine’s Day. For shame! Opposite them, Makoto turned his eyes with a sheepish frown.

“I um, I would rather not have so many people watching me…” he mumbled with a scratch at the back of his neck. “It might be embarrassing…”

“Getting love letters and chocolates is embarrassing?” asked Nagisa, eyes large in wonderment.

“I think Makoto-senpai refers to the possibility of receiving none, Nagisa-kun..” muttered Rei with a flat look.

“Oi, you’re putting Macchan on the spot!” snapped Yasutomo. “ _Go home,_ you little brats! I’ll double your regimen!”

“N-Now, there’s no need for that..!” Nagisa raised his hands in surrender. Yasutomo scoffed, then stole a dull glance at Makoto, noting with some relief that his friend’s initial burst of embarrassment had mostly evaporated. Judging by his hardened cheeks and clenched fists, mild anxiety had seeped into its place, but at least Makoto’s anxiety could be reasoned with. Yasutomo sighed.

“How about I open mine first,” he offered to Makoto, who stared back surprised and curious. “I’ll show you how it’s done, Macchan.”

He took a deep breath, then turned to Nagisa and Rei, his eyes narrowed as he drew a deep breath through his nose.

“Oi, you nosy brats!” he snapped at them. Rei let out a yelp. Nagisa’s eyes twinkled in glee. “Watch how a _real_ veteran does it!” Yasutomo then marched over to his locker and grasped the handle, never taking his eyes off his nosy kouhai. “Brace yourselves, _gentlemen!_ It’s time for the _Grande Reveal!_ ”

Nagisa tucked his arms to his sides, fists hovering by his chest and his teeth clamped over his bottom lip. Rei pushed his glasses back with a shaky hand. Even Makoto held his breath, mouth ajar as he leaned in with the others… and the next moment, Yasutomo yanked the locker door open, to reveal a pair of worn-out sneakers and nothing more.

“ _TA-FUCKING-DA!_ ” he bellowed at the top of his lungs, till he saw the upward twitch of Makoto’s mouth, and the way he clamped a hand on his face as he turned away with quaking shoulders. “You expected something cool, huh?! Well, you got _Nothing,_ you little losers! _Happy fucking Valentine’s!!_ ” he jabbed a finger at the first years.

Rei’s left eye twitched. Even Nagisa stared back confused, but before he could point out the third loser in the bunch, Yasutomo pulled out his sneakers and kicked off his indoor shoes. He then took his sweet time tying his shoes and slipping the other pair into the bottom shelf, and once there was nothing else to fiddle with, he closed the locker with a soft click.

“Your turn, Macchan,” he flashed his friend a smirk. “Do you think you can top _this..?!_ ”

This time, Makoto failed to smother his laughter. He scratched his cheek with a finger, his smile apologetic. Yasutomo’s shoulders slumped in relief. _There you go, Macchan… it was worth making a fool of myself, to help you relax a little…_

With renewed excitement, Nagisa and Rei turned to Makoto, who cleared his throat and motioned for them to follow him to his locker on the other end of the room. The others trailed after him, all three fidgeting for entirely different reasons as Makoto placed a hand on his locker’s handle. He let out a puff of air, his cheeks tinged pink in anticipation.

“Well, here we go…!” he said quietly, his eyes screwed shut as he gave his locker door a tug. Nagisa and Rei squeaked in unison. After the desolate sight of the vice-captain’s empty locker, the small heap of slick boxes on Makoto’s top shelf promised a welcome change of pace. Even Yasutomo watched with softened looks as Makoto fished them out one by one, inspected their cards, then placed them in his backpack with delicate care.

“Not bad, not bad, Mako-chan!” Nagisa clapped his hands.

“Such beautifully wrapped packages,” Rei nodded enthusiastically, but Yasutomo only snorted at their awed glances at Makoto’s gifts.

“ _Hah!_ You should have seen his locker last year! He got a huge zip-lock bag of honmei choco, didn’t you, Macchan?”

Makoto paused. The last box dented beneath his thumb.

“Yeah…” his voice rang paper thin as he zipped his backpack. Yasutomo furrowed his brow.

“Wait, Mako-chan, there’s also a note!” Nagisa pointed to the bottom shelf of Makoto’s locker, where sure enough, something triangular and green appeared wedged under the soles of Makoto’s trainers. After a moment of hesitation, Makoto plucked it loose. It was a note shaped in half of a heart.

“ _I have the, other, half,_ ” Makoto read it out loud, his delivery as hesitant and awkward as the writing he was struggling to decipher. “ _Come to the, abb.. abandoned pool, at three..?_ ”

“Three o’clock?” asked Rei. He whipped up his wrist to check his watch. “It’s almost time!”

“Abandoned pool?! Awesome!” grinned Nagisa, while Makoto paled and lowered the note with a queasy frown.

“Abandoned pool..?” he echoed in growing consternation. “What abandoned pool?! Do they mean the Iwatobi Swimming Club? But that’s not even around here..!”

“I think they mean the pool behind the school, Macchan,” said Yasutomo, his face deadpan. “Don’t tell me you’ve never even heard of it! You can see it easily from the roof! You know, where the cherry trees are!”

“I might have heard of it before, but, _why an abandoned pool..?!_ ” pleaded Makoto in growing wretchedness. “Doesn’t that sound kinda weird? No matter how you look at it, it’s not normal to invite someone to an abandoned pool on Valentine’s Day!”

“Well, **_maybe_** they don’t want an **_audience_** when they confess their undying **_love_** for you,” hissed Yasutomo through gritted teeth, sweat beading on his brow. _Damn it, Macchan! Stop being such a baby! I chose that place because it’s out of everyone’s way, and I thought it looked kinda cool! Stop making this so hard for me! I can’t tell who’s worse, you or Hazuki!_

“Maybe it’s a trap!” suggested Nagisa.

“A trap?!” cried Makoto, instinctively reaching out to grip Yasutomo’s shoulder. One squeeze of his hand and Yasutomo could hear his shoulder snap, crackle, and pop. At the sound, a vein began throbbing in his temple like a countdown to self-combustion.

_Never mind, you’re both the worst!! **God damn it!!**_

“Well, I mean, an abandoned pool full of weed and trash doesn’t sound very romantic, does it, Mako-chan?” explained Nagisa with a wag of his finger. “It sounds more like the set of a horror movie to me! Maybe whoever wrote that note wants to lure you there, and when your back is turned, they will swoop down and—”

“SHUT UP, _SHUT UP,_ ALL OF YOU JUST **_SHUT UP!_** ” screeched Yasutomo, stunning them all into silence. “What the hell is wrong with you, Hazuki?! And Macchan, stop being such a _baby_ already!!” he growled, shooting a murderous look behind his back. Makoto released his shoulder at once. Yasutomo slapped a hand to his temple.

“I’m sick and tired of this! It’s just a stupid note, Macchan, so stop acting like you’re going to die! Can’t you see that Hazuki’s just egging you on?! Get a grip! I can’t believe you’re being such a coward when it’s just a harmless little note—”

“ _Fine,_ ” hissed Makoto, his face darkened. Yasutomo swallowed the rest of his rant.

“Mach.. chan..?”

“I said _fine!_ ” snapped Makoto as he pulled his trainers out of his locker. He changed shoes and closed his locker in a matter of seconds, then grabbed his backpack and brushed past Yasutomo towards the entrance. “I’m going, _I’m going,_ so can you all just _stop?_ ”

“Macchan…” mumbled Yasutomo. “I was just teasing you..!”

He took a step towards his friend, only to see Makoto shrink away from him.

“I said I was _going!_ I can do this by myself, so _don’t follow me!_ ”

And with that, Makoto turned his back on them and left the locker room for good, head hanging and shoulders tense. Yasutomo lowered his head. Beside him, Nagisa and Rei exchanged concerned glances.

“Hey…” said Nagisa, turning to face Yasutomo. “Can I ask you a question?”

“What is it,” muttered Yasutomo. Nagisa’s face softened.

“You obviously like Mako-chan, so why are you mean to him all the time?”

Yasutomo gave a strangled sound.

“I’m not mean to him! I was just teasing him! _Teasing!_ ”

“Teasing is fine and all, as long as everyone’s having fun,” carried on Nagisa, “but once you hurt Mako-chan’s feelings, it really isn’t any better than bullying him, you know?”

“Bullying…” echoed Yasutomo. Rei adjusted his glasses.

“I have to agree with Nagisa-kun, Yasutomo-senpai,” he said quietly. “Makoto-senpai seemed really upset by your words. Though, perhaps he was already feeling unwell, so what ordinarily would have come across as teasing came across as hurtful…”

“He did look kinda down, didn’t he,” muttered Yasutomo, his brow creased. “When I mentioned the zip-lock bag.”

“Tadokoro-senpai said zip-lock bag too, didn’t he, Rei-chan?” Nagisa turned to Rei. He hummed.

“Is that rumor really true then, Yasutomo-senpai?”

“Yeah,” replied Yasutomo, his eyes clouded. “Last Valentine’s Day, Macchan got half a kilogram of honmei choco in a zip-lock bag. No note, just a dozen different kinds of home-made chocolate.”

“I wonder why he didn’t get one this year,” mused Nagisa. “Maybe whoever gave it to him was a senior, so they’ve already graduated… that would be so sad…”

Nagisa heaved a heart-broken sigh. Rei cleared his throat.

“Actually, I’ve been wondering who could have slipped that green note in Makoto-senpai’s locker,” mused Rei. “You don’t suppose it might have been..?”

“Zip-lock-chan?!” chirped Nagisa.

“Who you think you’re calling Zip-lock-chan?!” snapped Yasutomo, then colored as Nagisa and Rei stared back in surprise. “Argh, I had enough of this! Just go home already, you’re being a nuisance..!”

“I suppose we really should hurry up, Nagisa-kun,” mumbled Rei, who checked his watch. “It’s five minutes past three, and we need to catch our next train.”

“Five minutes past three?!” cried Yasutomo. “Argh! _I gotta go!_ ”

And with that, he sprinted out of the locker room in the direction Makoto had taken, leaving an astonished Nagisa and Rei behind.

* * *

Having ditched Nagisa and Rei, Yasutomo ran all the way to the rusted chain link fence that surrounded the pool area on all sides, but he didn’t pass through its gate just yet. Instead, he slumped against the trunk of a cherry tree, out of view, to catch his breath and brace himself for the scariest task he had ever faced. He tried to take deep breaths to steady himself, but his heart hammered like it wanted to burst right out of him. He fixed his tie and adjusted his school uniform jacket, but all he could think of was how much he was sweating underneath. _My scent must be terrible right now… will you be disgusted, Macchan..?_

_Argh! Come on, Arakita Yasutomo..! Pull yourself together! At least you’ll know how he feels! And knowing that, you might be able to move forward..! **Come on!**_

He pressed a heavy hand to his heart and pushed himself away from the tree, then snuck through the gate and down towards the dilapidated swimming club house, careful not to make a sound. He could not see Makoto from the path, but when he reached the building and turned around the corner, the abandoned pool swam into full view… and sitting on Block Five, knees pressed together and his hands gripping the edges of the block, was Makoto, all alone.

Yasutomo took a few steps forward, no longer minding his movements. At the sound of his footsteps, Makoto whipped his head up, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, radiant with hope – and then he saw Yasutomo, and his expression shattered. For a moment, he seemed frozen, face sunken, teeth gritted… and Yasutomo watched in horror as Makoto hung his head in bitter disappointment.

Time stopped dead. Yasutomo opened his mouth, but the air felt scarce. He planted a hand against the wall to steady his legs, though far from shaking, they had rooted to the ground. He watched Makoto’s hands release the block to tear through his hair. As his body tensed, something slipped from his lap and flittered to the ground. It was the green note, shaped like half a heart.

Yasutomo swallowed, hard. _Are you this upset that it’s me..?_

“Macchan..” he called out, or would have, had his voice not been strangled by fear. He took a breath, then another and another, each faster than the last. The tightness of his chest didn’t ease at all, but he could feel some air seep through the cracks. “Macchan…”

Makoto didn’t answer. Perhaps he couldn’t. His fingers dug into his scalp like claws.

Yasutomo set his jaws and dragged himself over in small, shuffling steps, his heart hammering ninety miles per hour. The moment he came in reach of the block, his right leg gave out and he tumbled forward, slamming knee first into the concrete. Makoto’s breath hitched. Yasutomo choked back a hiss of pain, and not to give himself away completely, he reached out a clammy hand, to pick the green note off the ground.

“You dropped this, Macchan…” he stammered as he held it out with a threadbare smile. It took Makoto a moment, but he at last stopped torturing his scalp and reached out, pulling the note from between Yasutomo’s fingers.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “But… I don’t think I need it anymore.”

His voice cracked. Yasutomo edged closer, ignoring the flash of pain in his knee.

“Macchan.. are you okay?”

Makoto shook his head.

“I’m so disappointed, when I shouldn’t be,” he breathed, his eyes glimmering. “I got, ahead of myself, Tomo. That zip-lock bag of home-made chocolates from last year… I should have known it was, too good to be true.”

Yasutomo furrowed his brow. Makoto wiped his eyes.

“I wish they had included a note,” he carried on, his breath labored. “There were so many chocolates, that I convinced myself, it wasn’t a mistake, or just, some random act of kindness. You know? The sort where someone made a few too many chocolates, so they just gave the rest away to whoever was nearby..?”

“Macchan…” Yasutomo shook his head. “Are you kidding me..?”

Makoto shook his head.

“I’m just saying, I felt that, half a kilogram, couldn’t be just someone, messing with me. That someone must have really made that much chocolate, just for me, personally. But without a note, I couldn’t even thank them.”

He rubbed his nose with his wrist. Yasutomo watched with warm concern.

“They were so good, too…” sniffled Makoto. “I thought, whoever made these, must have liked me very much, even though I’m not all that special. So I’ve been waiting all year, for another chance. I hoped they might be back, but they never came… and whoever wrote this note, didn’t show up either. I just… feel so disappointed. Even though I got those other chocolates… that’s terribly selfish, isn’t it…”

“Macchan…” sighed Yasutomo, unsure if he wanted to enter into an argument over the meaning of ‘selfish.’ “Hey, Macchan.. if Zip-lock-chan did show up, what would you do?” he asked next. Makoto snorted in surprise.

“Zip-lock… chan..?” he mumbled, his smile weak and wobbly. “I… I don’t wanna say. Not like this. Sorry, Tomo… I was so embarrassing, back there, getting all riled up over going to the abandoned pool. Joke’s on me. In the end, nobody came.”

A moment passed. Yasutomo’s hand clenched, then sank deep into his pocket.

“That’s not true, Macchan,” he said quietly, and when Makoto stared back at him wide-eyed, he added, “Open your hands.”

Having caught him off guard, Makoto did as he was told, and could only watch with his jaw hanging as Yasutomo produced something from his pocket, and dropped it onto Makoto’s open palm.

Makoto’s heart skipped a beat. In his hands lay two halves of the same green heart-shaped note, his own still crisp and flat, while Yasutomo’s had crumpled in his effort to hide it till the last moment. Makoto beheld them mesmerized, then lifted his eyes to look at Yasutomo, who had since sunk to both knees, lowered his school bag, and tugged it open, to pull out a large zip-lock bag filled to the brim with home-made chocolate.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Macchan,” he placed the bag onto Makoto’s open palms, watching with satisfaction as his hands sank under the weight. “For your old pal, Zip-lock-chan.”

“Yasu..tomo..?” mumbled Makoto, his cheeks pale. Yasutomo gritted his teeth and nodded.

“It was me, Macchan. It was all me,” he forced the words out, struggling to look his friend in the eye. “You know how last year, I didn’t let you come over for a week before Valentine’s Day? It was because I was busy learning how to make home-made chocolate, Macchan. And you know how I said I had to take extra classes this trimester? I spent all that time in home ec, learning how to temper chocolate and decorate candies. I was the only guy there, Macchan..!”

Makoto’s mouth hung ajar, but he remained speechless. Yasutomo lowered his eyes.

“Macchan.. I know I’ve been a real jerk lately… and I’m difficult, loud, and annoying all the time. I understand, if you don’t feel anything for me. Really, I do. But…” he forced himself to look up, he had to, “do you think, you could at least eat the chocolate..? I swear it came out even better this year..! _I’m really proud of it!_ ”

Makoto let out a shaky breath. His hands seemed to sink lower, and lower, till the zip-lock bag touched the concrete and crumpled into a heap.

“Mach—” _–chan…_

It happened so fast, Yasutomo forgot to breathe.

One moment, he was still on his knees, begging, and the next, Makoto flung himself forward from the block and tackled Yasutomo in a hug, hard enough to knock the air out of him. He could feel their knees knock together as Makoto’s arms wrapped around him unbearably tight. His arms got crushed to his sides, but with some effort, Yasutomo managed to hook his fingers in Makoto’s jacket, to return his embrace. So close, he could feel the other’s heart, beating wildly against his. The air filled with Makoto’s cologne, but beneath that layer of ocean breeze, Yasutomo could smell pure joy. If it were a color, it might have been yellow. Or grass green. Having seen the way Makoto’s eyes crinkled when he smiled, Yasutomo was sure it would have been the vibrant green of Makoto’s eyes.

“Don’t worry, about being, difficult,” breathed Makoto as he pulled back just enough so Yasutomo could catch his teary smile, “I have.. seventeen years, of experience..!”

Yasutomo could feel his cheeks bloom. Makoto laughed as if ashamed of his own terrible joke, and though he sounded broken, it rang like music to Yasutomo’s ears, the greatest sound he had ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trivia: I wrote the final scene to a track from the _Yowamushi Pedal: Grande Road_ soundtrack, titled "Takushi ta omoi". If I remember correctly, it plays when Arakita finally exhausts himself and falls away from his team, having given everything he had for their sakes.
> 
> Technically, this is the end of the story, but I have a bonus chapter planned, which should be going up tomorrow. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.


	6. February, Two Years Later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Macchan.. Macchan…”

With a sleepy groan, Makoto opened his eyes, then screwed them shut as light spilled over his face and splashed across the futon. He scrunched up his face and squinted. Something thin and eggplant purple lay tangled within arm’s reach on the hardwood floor. Makoto had just enough presence of mind to realize it was a garter. Where was the rest..?

“Down here, Macchan..” he heard Yasutomo’s voice, low and soft. Makoto tilted his head. He lay on his side with his right arm wedged beneath his head, naked except for the blanket and Yasutomo’s right leg resting between his, pressing shamelessly against him. Makoto’s left arm draped over Yasutomo’s side. Yasutomo clamped a hand on his wrist and dragged his hand to his waist, then wiggled his shoulders and edged his torso away so they could look each other in the eye. Though his negligee had crumpled in his sleep, Makoto could not help but admire the way its folds draped across Yasutomo’s silhouette. Yasutomo gave him a lopsided grin, as radiant as the morning sun.

“Happy anniversary, Macchan.”

Makoto let out a contented sigh and snuck his hand beneath the negligee, trailing down Yasutomo’s side to his hips and below.

“Happy anniversary,” he mumbled as he pulled the other back to his side, followed by sloppy kisses, and an affectionate squeeze of Yasutomo’s ass. He grunted against Makoto’s lips. His hand softened at once.

“Do you hurt?” he whispered, his voice warm with concern. Yasutomo made a face.

“ _Barely,_ ” he scoffed and nudged his head to Makoto’s chest, but when he felt the other’s hand slip off, he reached for it and pressed it to his ass again. Makoto let him. Yasutomo lifted his head just enough to look him in the eye, his grin lazy. “ _Fine,_ I do, but it was worth it. I felt really nice, didn’t I, Macchan..”

“You did,” chuckled Makoto, his face flushed crimson. Yasutomo slipped a hand to his chest.

“So what do you wanna do today, huh,” he said next, rubbing small circles over Makoto’s pecks. Makoto gave his ass a soothing rub in return.

“Hmm… We didn’t really get a chance to celebrate on the day, so I thought I’d take you out on a date,” yawned Makoto. “But first… breakfast for two would be nice…”

“Breakfast, huh…” mused Yasutomo. “Are you gonna bring some or do I have to make some?”

“Either’s fine…” murmured Makoto, but the way he snuggled up to Yasutomo and closed his eyes said he would not be leaving the apartment so soon if he could help it. Yasutomo scoffed at his shameless display.

“I get it, I get it. What do you want, Macchan. Huh..? Eggs? Do you want eggs?”

“Hmm… Can we have pancakes…”

“Pancakes..?! But that takes so much _effort,_ Macchan!” grumbled Yasutomo, though his tone lacked bite. “Pancakes for breakfast, sheesh… I bet if I made that, you’d want chocolate syrup and whipped cream and strawberries, too. What are you, a little kid?”

“Maybe I am.”

“You weren’t a little kid _last night_.”

Makoto snorted in embarrassment, then grabbed his pillow to bury his hot face in it as Yasutomo’s hand snuck beneath the covers and curled around his length.

“Hey, Macchan…”

“ _What._ ” His voice was tiny. Yasutomo struggled not to laugh.

“I want _this_ for breakfast.”

“ _Stop it,_ ” whined Makoto from behind his pillow.

“ _What are you saying, Macchan?_ ” cried Yasutomo in mock indignation. “You want me to make you pancakes, but you won’t give me any sausage? What a selfish guy you are! You hear that, girls from last night? The Devil of the Mixer is a real selfish guy! _I did you a favor by taking him off your hands..!_ ”

He watched with glee as Makoto lowered the pillow just enough to shoot him a glare, still beet red to the tips of his ears. Yasutomo flashed him a devilish grin.

“I didn’t even want to go in the first place,” Makoto mumbled into his pillow. “I only went because Satsuki-chan asked me to moderate..!”

“Hey, if I were a girl and saw Machimiya for the first time, I’d want a moderator too,” quipped Yasutomo, and when Makoto didn’t laugh, he gave him an apologetic peck on the back of the hand still holding his pillow in place. “I didn’t wanna go either, but it was worth it. The karaoke.”

“You didn’t even sing, Tomo,” squinted Makoto.

“But _you_ did, Macchan. I’ll never get tired of you singing. You should have seen the girls’ faces! Man… None of them even looked at me all night, but they were eating you up!”

“And then you got revenge for being ignored, huh,” said Makoto, struggling to contain his smile. “Terrible. How could you even say that out loud, Tomo, I’m still laughing.”

Yasutomo put on a snide grin.

“ _Well, time for the best looking guy here to take home the goods!_ ” he barked as he withdrew his leg from between Makoto’s, then swung both legs upward until he managed to fold himself up over Makoto’s torso as if being princess carried. “ _Happy Fucking Valentine’s!_ ”

Makoto snorted and slapped a hand to his hot face, but gathered Yasutomo into his arms all the same. “Terrible, absolutely terrible…”

“That’s what they get for inviting a married guy to a mixer.”

“We’re not married, Tomo.”

“We _are_ a little married.”

Makoto was still giggling when they kissed. His lips felt soft as velvet. Yasutomo sighed and lowered his legs so he could cuddle up to Makoto and wedge his leg between his again. He closed his eyes, till all that remained was Makoto’s warmth and smell. _The smell of home,_ he thought. That’s what it really was.

“Five more minutes, Macchan,” he murmured. “Hold me for five more minutes and I’ll make you pancakes.”

He felt Makoto shift till he gathered Yasutomo into his arms. One hand slipped to his ass to keep it warm and dull the pain.

“I’ll hold you for ten,” he whispered, half asleep again. Yasutomo clicked his tongue.

_You always gotta one-up me, don’t you, Macchan… God, you’re so annoying…_

_But.. it’s fine. This is fine. I hope you’ll keep annoying me.. for the rest of my life._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Post Credit Trivia:**
> 
> On his seventeenth batch, Makoto finally hatched a 5 IV Adamant shiny Tyrunt. Yasutomo asked him to name it Gabu-chan. Not counting his first starter, Gabu-chan is Yasutomo’s most cherished Pokémon to date.
> 
> Not to be wasteful, Makoto asked a nurse to stick Yasutomo’s lukewarm Bepsi in the fridge before he went home. It got flat by the time it cooled down, but not wanting to waste Makoto’s kindness, Yasutomo drank it anyway.
> 
> To avoid Yasutomo at school, Makoto, whose classroom was on the ground floor, snuck out the window after each class, and spent his breaks crouching by the outer wall. He also ate lunch that way. His reason for going to the shrine was to gather courage to speak to his best friend.
> 
> Rei joined the track team in his first year of high school to continue his track career, and Nagisa joined shortly after for uh, no particular reason… Both were struggling, but thanks to a pair of reliable second-years, they found their calling. Nagisa is really good at long-distance jumping.
> 
> Yasutomo eventually broke the news of dating Makoto to their families during a fight between the younger siblings over who got to be Makoto’s wife in their game of house, by telling them, “None of you can marry Macchan! I’m gonna marry him!! He chose me, not you!!” He then grabbed Makoto’s hand and kissed him by the mouth, something he had never done in public before, to drive the point home. The twins became hysterical and were inconsolable for the rest of the evening. Yasutomo’s sisters were equally stunned, if a little less hysterical. Yasutomo later admitted it wasn’t the smartest move he had ever made.
> 
> Kinjou and Machimiya were with Yasutomo when he picked out his purple garter and negligee at the department store. Kinjou helped. Machimiya complained. Strangely enough, everyone had a good time.
> 
> Yasutomo and Makoto continue to run marathons. Yasutomo recently came first in a charity run for the local children’s hospital, so he got to deliver a huge check to the hospital and talk to several kids. By request, he told them his story, or as much of it as he could without feeling awkward or saying too much. He probably isn’t aware of it, but every kid who had met him that day remembers him as a hero.


End file.
